Dóchas
by phys-nut
Summary: After his wife is killed, Uther quits being a reverend and turns his back on God and religion. Arthur follows his father's hatred, until he meets Merlin, a trainee priest, who takes it upon himself to help Arthur foster his own faith and belief. A/M U/Mg
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Dóchas

**Author:** phys_nut

**Beta:** dwarfandelf

**Summary:** [this chapter] Uther turns his back on God, and Arthur follows in his footsteps

**Word Count: **3,021

**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin, Uther/Morgana

**Warnings:** religious themes, but nothing preachy or anything like that. Age differences (Arthur/Merlin – 18/24, Uther/Morgana – 39/26)

**Disclaimer: **none of this is mine, it all belongs to the BBC and Arthurian Legend.

**A/N: **First of all, I'd like to give a big GIGANTIC thank you! To my beta **dwarfandelf** , she is an absolute goddess for putting up with my throwing stories at her out of nowhere, and this story wouldn't be half as brilliant(and grammatically correct/free of bad spelling) if it wasn't for her! :D Secondly I'd like to thank **frellen_rocks** , who has been my bestest friend, cheerleader, hand-holder and shoulder to cry on/rant at – you're an absolute babe frellen for putting up with my moaning and giving me loads of head-swelling compliments to keep me writing! A giant GIANT thank you to **jhava** , my artist, who created one of the most spectacular pieces I've seen – I literally couldn't imagine a better piece of art to accompany my story, they were made for each other! I wanna give a big shout out to all the peeps at paperpushers, who have been a great source of inspiration and motivation when I was ready to give up! I'd also like to thank all my non-LJ friends, who had to put up with MONTHS of my moaning, procrastination and blabbering about Merlin! Lastly, I'd like to give a giant thank you to the mods who organised this wonderful fest, you people are absolute stars!

This story was both a joy and a PAIN to write – I've never actually managed to get such a large story written in such a short space of time (I thought I was nearly done at 17,000 words and would just about scrape the 20,000 mark when it just suddenly BLEW up with only 2 weeks to go, leaving me a quivering mess of a writer), and such a personal one too (being Irish and catholic meant that a lot of my personal feelings and opinions ended up in this in one way or another), and I am so glad I decided to take part! This story is quite a lot like life – mostly serious with moments of crack thrown in (the goldfish wake is taken from a RL experience), as I'm unable to write purely in one sort of genre.

Oh and if anyone's interested, Dóchas is the Irish for Hope.

Right, sorry to take up your time! Please read, and I hope you enjoy my story! :D

Arthur's first memories are a mixture of hazy images, sounds and smells, but the one thing that stands out in sharp relief is the image of his father, dressed in his vestments and standing at the pulpit, preaching down at the congregation with determined passion. Arthur remembers sitting at the front of the church with his mother, staring up in awe; not quite understanding the meaning behind the words that washed over him, but being swept away by the emotion behind them none-the-less. Ygraine would wrap her arm around Arthur's shoulder, smile proudly up at Uther and after the service, would always give him a hug and a kiss, and tell her husband that he had done a wonderful job. Those were easy days for Arthur, full of play and church and loving his parents: his mother's serenity balancing out his father's bright passion. That set of memories is one of the best of Arthur's life.

The next set, not so much.

Primarily, Arthur remembers pain and fear, and overwhelming sadness. Then anger.

Arthur was at Sunday School when it happened: Ygraine went to the shop to buy tea bags and biscuits for the women's prayer group meeting, and it was there that a teenage drug addict (Arthur years later found out that her name was Nimueh, and she had attended one of his mother's support groups) held the shop at gunpoint, while she screamed for money to be put in a bag for her. Ygraine tried to talk to her, to calm her down, but the girl was in fits from withdrawal, and it only served to agitate her more. In between shrieks, the girl's hand convulsed and suddenly seized up, causing the gun to go off. The girl grabbed what money she could and scarpered, and Ygraine fell to the ground, her stomach burst open.

Arthur remembers endless days and nights at the hospital on his knees beside his mother's bed.

"Pray Arthur," his father had said, a manic gleam in his eyes. "Pray to God for your mother, that she may be restored and returned to us."

And pray Arthur did. He prayed harder for those three days than he ever did in his entire life, his eyes scrunched up tight, and his lips moving soundlessly. The steady beeping of the machines heralded the passing of time, the monotony broken up sporadically by visitors who brought food and flowers and lots of prayers. But in the end, it was all to be for naught. One day, the beeping sped up, spluttered, and then ground to a dull continuous tone.

"Ygraine? Ygraine darling no, darling come to me, you cannot leave me!" Uther cried out, holding his wife's hand and stroking her face in a panicked manner.

"Mommy?" Arthur asked his eyes wide with confusion. "Mommy what's wrong, are you okay?"

He patted his mother's cheek and shook her arm, while his father sobbed and continued to beg his wife to come back.

"Mommy wake up! Daddy's crying, and you're really good at making him feel better." Arthur pleaded.

The room was suddenly full of people who ripped Arthur from his mother's side and started doing all sorts of strange things to her, while yelling at each other.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Arthur yelled, hot tears of confusion and sadness rolling down his cheeks.

Suddenly, strong arms surrounded him, and Uther murmured to him, "Stay strong Arthur, and pray for your mother."

Arthur and Uther stayed wrapped in each other's arms, and prayed with all their might as the doctors worked frantically to save Ygraine. Eventually though, the hubbub died down.

There was a sigh, and a voice said, "Call it."

"Time of Death, 15.42."

For the next two weeks, Arthur watched in fear as his father fell apart. He refused to get out of bed, refused to eat, and took to heavy drinking. At night, he was storming about the house, ranting and raving.

"I gave you everything! I gave you my life, my love, my devotion, and you take away the one thing I ask you not to! YOU BASTARD!"

Arthur generally curled up in bed, surrounded by his teddies during these times, and would try to block it all out.

One night, Uther crept into the room, eyes feverish and a crazy smile in place.

"Arthur, Arthur my boy, come with me. There's something we must do."

Petrified, Arthur tried to shrink away, but Uther got a hold of his arm, and dragged him out to the back door, where a fire was blazing. Nearby, was a pile of bibles and religious books, and a second pile of Uther's vestments. Uther picked up a bible and handed it to Arthur, who looked at it with trepidation.

"God is evil and cruel and merciless Arthur, we must purge him from our lives."

Not wanting to displease his father, Arthur shuffled even closer to the fire and tossed the book in, wincing as it hissed and crackled. Uther laughed and clapped his hands.

"Well done my boy!"

Encouraged, Arthur smiled and picked up another book, while Uther picked up a robe. Together they threw them in. Uther danced around the fire, and Arthur laughed, delighted to see his father so cheerful. Father and son continued to throw books and clothes into the fire, until everything was gone. Uther stared down at the fire, and then suddenly ripped his collar off, crushed it in his hand and threw it in. He then gathered Arthur up in his arms.

"It's over now son." He crooned. "We're free."

Arthur smiled, nodded and yawned; tucking his head into his father's shoulder as Uther carried him to bed.

The next day, Uther was clean-shaven and looking normal again, minus his white collar. He greeted Arthur as usual, made him breakfast, and then informed his son that they were moving to a new home. Arthur was too happy to have his father back to care, though he did catch himself staring at the man sometimes, wondering what difference it was that he couldn't see. It wasn't until years later that Arthur would realise that the warm passion, which had graced his father, was now replaced with a cold bitterness.

Uther had everything sorted within the week, and that's how Arthur found himself in a tiny blink-and-you'll-miss-it town in the west of Ireland.

At first, things are the same for Arthur – Uther opens a bookshop in the middle of town, and though he no longer wears his collar or vestments, Arthur's days are still languid and happy. However, there are differences.

Come autumn, Arthur must start school, where he makes friends, learns a new language, and for half an hour every day, gets the go to a different classroom for colouring. The teachers never seem happy about this, muttering about how it's, "Unholy, depriving the child of his faith," but Arthur is more focused on deciding what he would draw to think about what they are saying. The biggest change to Arthur's life is that he no longer goes to mass. At first, this is brilliant – no more itchy shirts with tight trousers, no more getting up early on a Sunday. Sure, Arthur feels a little left out when his friends in school all talk about how they sat together in mass and told jokes, but he consoles himself with the knowledge that he has more freedom than they do. This freedom comes at a price though; at age six, when his class is going to make their First Communion, Arthur goes to his father to ask him why he's not allowed to take part in it with his friends.

"Because neither God nor religion has a place in our lives," Uther replies in a cold tone, not looking up from his accounts book.

"Why?"

"Because God is cruel and unjust, and anything that encourages the worship of such a demon is corrupt and vile."

"Why?"

Uther sighs in obvious frustration, and then fixes a steely gaze on his son as he asks, "Arthur, how much did you love you mother?"

"I loved her with all my heart." Arthur replies honestly.

"God knew that," Uther says darkly, taking hold of Arthur's shoulder in a vice-like grip. "He knew that we loved her and needed her, and he took her from us anyway. He left us alone and bereft. _That _is why you should hate him Arthur, _that _is why I never want to hear God or religion spoken of again."

"Yes father," Arthur whispers, trying to wriggle out of Uther's grip. "I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven," Uther replies in a monotonous voice, letting go of him and immediately burying his head in his book again.

Like many children, the passage of time to Arthur is such that Ygraine is a nostalgic memory, which he prefers not to talk about. However, once her name and memory are brought back up again, he can't help but weep as he remembers her gentle presence, her smiles and hugs and care that only a mother can give. And, as he remembers how she was taken away, his heart hardens, and he swears never to think or speak fondly of God again.

This time, when he's taken out of class he understands why, and when the teachers mutter, he replies that he'd rather not waste his time on corruptible nonsense, which leads to more muttering and threats to call his father, but Arthur knows that his father terrifies them, and so, continues to provoke them. He takes to drawing himself and the Earth surrounded by black, entitling them, "Alone In This Universe," and tells anyone who'll listen that God isn't real. This quite often leads to Arthur being put in the corner or sent out of the room, but he loftily declares that he'd rather not be around, "fraud believers," anyway.

Arthur is eight when Morgana joins him and Uther; she turns up on their doorstep one night, a pale, drowned slip of sixteen years, who also turns out to be very angry and spiteful. She babbles for ten minutes straight about her father and death and a bunch of nonsense Arthur can't understand, before bursting into loud tears, burying her head in Uther's chest, and angrily declaring God, "an absolute shite," and that she never wants to even think about him. Uther welcomes her to stay, promising he'll take care of her, and so their angry God-hating family is complete.

Arthur learns that Morgana's father, Gorlois, and his, were best friends, and even went to the same seminary, before Gorlois moved to Ireland while Uther stayed in England. Morgana's mother died during childbirth, and Gorlois had used his faith to keep himself and his daughter strong, but when he died from a heart attack, Morgana went mad with grief, and remembering her father tell her about Uther and his own hatred, had run away and tracked him down. Arthur, never having had a sibling, doesn't know what to make of her – Morgana has a sharp tongue and a sarcastic nature – but all too soon, they fall into a natural pattern of bickering and being extremely competitive, while getting along extremely well despite the age difference.

As Arthur grows, he learns the art of sneering and cutting remarks from Morgana, and bitterness and hatred from Uther. His inner dislike of God evolves into outright bullying of anyone who opposes his beliefs. He takes to openly condemning anyone who believes in God or practises religion, so much so that he ends up isolating himself from most of the community. A few boys though, sick of the repressed Catholic nature of the town, immediately gravitate towards him, and the band of boys run amuck through the town, causing trouble and being "unholy terrors." Uther receives many complaints about his son, but simply shakes his head and replies, "Boys will be boys," and later share a laugh with Arthur over his antics. Lately, Morgana has taken to shaking her head and frowning disapprovingly at him. Arthur doesn't know what's going on with her, other than now that she's twenty-two, she's decided to be grown up and mature, aka "shove a stick up her arse."

One day, after Arthur and his friends wrote over the board outside the church so that the sermon of the mass was, "Why bother: God doesn't even know you exist," Morgana turns to him and hisses, "Nach bhfuil aon cineal i do cheann?"

"English only at the dinner table please." Uther chastises, as he dishes out the potatoes.

"Sorry." Morgana apologies. "I was asking Arthur if there was any sense in his head."

"Whatever for?"

"Because of what he and his goons did." Morgana snaps. "Vandalism is cruel and unnecessary."

"Telling the truth is always necessary. Arthur was perfectly reasonable doing what he did."

Arthur smirks and sticks his tongue out at Morgana, who glowers at him, before immediately zoning back in on Uther.

"They don't push their beliefs on us, why should we push our beliefs on them?"

"Mine is not a belief, it is a truth." Uther snaps icily.

"No, to YOU it's a truth, just like to priests, their God is a truth." Morgana replies just as icily.

"Enough!" Uther roars, "You will not speak of that in my house!"

"Just because you don't like what I'm saying doesn't mean you can turn into a tyrant on me." Morgana shouts back. "It's one thing to have a lack of faith and a dislike of God, but to possess an outright hatred of anyone who even says the word is pure madness!"

"I will not stand for this insolence," Uther growls. "Get out of my sight."

"With pleasure," Morgana says nastily, before pushing her chair back and storming off.

"Brat," Uther mutters stubbornly.

"Sycophantic maniac!" Morgana yells, before the door to her room slams shut.

The whole time they have been fighting, Arthur frowns down at his potatoes and tries to inconspicuously eat his dinner. These fights between Morgana and Uther have become more and more frequent lately. They had started about two years ago, when Morgana had, as a laugh, taken up a philosophy module as part of her English and Music degree. Suddenly, she was all about, "opening my mind to all possibilities, to examine everything about myself, to question all I can." It turned out that this questioning included questioning every single one of Uther's opinions and beliefs. At first, Uther was delighted, jumping right into the spirit of the debate, and for a brief, shining moment, Arthur caught a glimpse of the bright, passionate man he thought he had only dreamt of. But then, religion was mentioned. Uther immediately shut up and refused to speak about it, and when Morgana pushed him about it, he roared at her, prompting her to roar back, and the two would be left red-faced and glaring at each other. They could never stay mad at each other though, and Arthur would often find them hours after a fight, hugging or curled up together on the sofa, apologising wordlessly, both too proud to say anything aloud. At first, Arthur found it amusing, but now, he's sick and tired of it, and wishes they would just learn to live in peace with each other.

"Ignore Morgana," Uther says smoothly, after a few minutes of silence. "She's just…being difficult. Women's problems or something like that, I would imagine."

Arthur "hmms," and nods, concentrating on swallowing past the lump in his throat that is the horror of hearing his father utter the words "women's problems."

Father and son finish their meal in relative silence, and as they clean up, Uther clears his throat and in a very awkward tone, suggests to Arthur that perhaps vandalism isn't entirely proper. Arthur bites back the argument bubbling on the tip of his tongue and simply nods. As he's going to his room later on, Morgana's door opens, and she pokes her head out to smirk at him and stick her tongue out, before disappearing back inside.

Most of the time, Arthur thinks that Morgana is a bit of a nut-bag, but there are times, if he's being honest with himself, he admits she's got a point. Arthur has seen Uther go absolutely batshit insane over his hatred of God, and there are times Arthur wonders if maybe Uther's lack of faith has cost him something precious.

When Arthur's sixteen, he's going through some of his father's old things, looking for anything useful for a fancy dress party, when he finds an old photograph of Ygraine, Uther, and his toddler self. His younger self is pulling a face, while Uther and Ygraine are laughing at the camera. Arthur stares at the photo, something tightening in his chest at the sight of his mother, so beautiful and ALIVE, and his father, looking so young and carefree. The Uther in this picture is relaxed and completely happy, and Arthur has trouble reconciling this image with the father he has now, who is constantly frowning, and who's eyes are bitter and slightly dead looking. Looking over the picture, Arthur's stomach clenches when he spies his father's white collar and it hits him: that was Uther when he had faith in God. As stubborn as Uther is when it comes to his disbelief, and as vindictive as he is about his feelings towards God, Arthur truly wonders if maybe Uther was better off with his blind faith. This leads him to wondering what his life might have been like if he had been raised by a faith-filled father. Would he have been happy living ignorant of God's true cruelty? Would he still have felt alone or abandoned, or would he be stronger believing that there was always someone with him? As much as he would like to daydream, or talk to someone about his ideas about faith, Arthur knows what he knows and feels far too set in his way to ever truly change. He does however, stop actively condemning people, and keeps his lack of faith to himself, earning grateful smiles and puzzled looks from Morgana and Uther respectively.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Dóchas

**Author:** phys_nut

**Beta:** dwarfandelf

**Summary:** [this chapter] Arthur finds out Morgana's secret and becomes curious…

**Word Count: **4,144

**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin, Uther/Morgana

**Warnings:** religious themes, but nothing preachy or anything like that. Age differences (Arthur/Merlin – 18/24, Uther/Morgana – 39/26)

**Disclaimer: **none of this is mine, it all belongs to the BBC and Arthurian Legend.

**A/N: **thank you very much to those who reviewed, your comments are very much appreciated! **ILoveThesePeople – **Yes, this was my merlin big bang entry this year, I'm glad you remember and enjoy it! **Jammeke – **glad you like my little twist on uther's hatred, and hopefully you'll enjoy the Arthur/merlin moments. **Rubberxduckies12 – **gaighlig, that's Scottish gaelic isn't it? I'm from Ireland, I speak gaelige. They're pretty much the same, some differences though. Do you speak gaighlig?

Please read and enjoy! :D

When Arthur's eighteen, he notices something very odd – Morgana is up earlier than he is on Sundays. Normally, on workdays, this wouldn't be strange at all, but on Sundays, Morgana loved nothing more than sleeping in until about 1pm. Therefore, when four Sundays pass when Morgana is up before 10am, Arthur immediately grows suspicious.

"Cad atá ag tharla?" he asks the next day when they're on their lunch break. "Dhusaigh tu go luath inne."

"_Nothing is happening." _Morgana answered in Irish, _"I just woke up and couldn't get back to sleep."_

Growing up near the Gaeltacht area meant that Morgana and Arthur are fluent in Irish, a fact they find most useful when they want to talk about things they don't want Uther to know about. They tell Uther they are practising for exams, and being that he can't understand a word they are saying, he believes them.

"_You, not able to sleep? Bullshit."_ Arthur snorts. _"You're up to something."_

"_Then what is it?"_

"_I don't know that's why I'm asking you."_

"_Then I'm telling you I'm up to nothing," _Morgana replies sweetly.

Arthur scowls and plots all sorts of nefarious ways to make Morgana tell him, then decides that the simplest approach is best.

"So Morgana, I noticed that you've been getting up early the past few Sundays, any particular reason?" He asks nonchalantly at dinner that night.

Both Uther and Morgana pause, forks halfway to their mouths, Uther looking curiously at Morgana, who glares at Arthur, before schooling her features.

"I've taken up jogging," she replied demurely, then turns to Uther as she adds, "It helps me deal with extra stress and to think and question things alone."

"Ah yes, jolly good." Uther beams. "Healthy body, healthy mind and all that."

He suddenly looks concerned and leans towards her, asking, "You're not having nightmares again, are you?"

Morgana had suffered from terrible nightmares when she had first stayed with Uther and Arthur, and Arthur shudders still at the memories of her terrified screams.

"Oh heavens no," Morgana says reassuringly, patting Uther's hand. "Don't worry; I just fancy a bit of exercise."

"Very well then." Uther nods, giving her hand a squeeze before getting back to dinner.

Morgana shoots Arthur a smug look, which only serves to fuel Arthur's desire to know just what is going on.

Said desire is exactly what causes him to find himself, crouching in bed at 7am next Sunday, listening to Morgana bustling about her room and the kitchen. At 7.30, Arthur hears the front door open and close, and peaks out his window to see Morgana tottering down the road in a skirt suit and heels.

"I KNEW she wasn't going jogging," he mutters to himself triumphantly.

As tempted as he is to follow her, Arthur knows that she'll spot him immediately, and so goes about getting himself breakfast and eating it while watching the television, waiting. At 8.30, the front door opens, and Arthur stands as Morgana creeps into the living room.

"You forgot something," he drawls, holding up a pair of her runners.

Morgana freezes, eyes staring in shock at him, and Arthur can see the cogs going 'tick-tick-tick,' trying to think of an escape. Not wanting to let her think of one, Arthur quickly continues talking.

"Though I can't really figure out how one can go jogging in a skirt and heels. Perhaps Uther would be able to help us ou-"

"All right all right!" Morgana hisses, grabbing Arthur's wrist in a painful grip and dragging him into her room.

Once in, she lets go and starts pacing up and down, eyes darting about frantically, while Arthur lounges on her bed with an air of smug superiority.

"Come on, out with it," he says gloatingly. "What are you up to? I bet it's bad if you're hiding it from Uther."

"I… I…"

Morgana's mouth works silently a few moments more before she snaps it shut and sighs uneasily.

"Well go on then-"

"I'm going to mass."

"You're… WHAT?"

"I've been going to mass the past few Sundays."

"But… but you don't believe in – in ANY of it!"

"I know!" Morgana cries, then softens her voice as she adds, "At least, I didn't…I don't know, it's kind of… nice to start learning to have faith."

Arthur stares at her, his mind absolutely boggled. This is _Morgana_ – sure, she's uptight, prim, and proper at times, but she's always had a bigger vendetta against God than he did!

"How did this happen?"

"I made some new friends at the night course I'm doing. Two of them, Gwen and Lance, are really involved in the Church," Morgana replies. "At first, I didn't want to hear about it, but then…they always seem so happy and lively, and passionate about everything, and when I asked them why, they told me it's because they believe that God gave them something precious, and they want to make the most of it. It's like their faith made them better people. I got curious and decided to go to mass with them."

"W-… what's it like?" Arthur asks hesitantly.

"It was very strange at first, but now… it's comforting, and reassuring. There's a great feeling of togetherness, and you can talk to anyone, and the priest, Father Gaius, is always there for questions on faith and belief."

Morgana turns her gaze to Arthur, and he flinches at the open, honest look on her face.

"You should come with me next week," she says earnestly. "I think you'd like it."

Arthur doesn't know who this person in front of him is, doesn't know where his biting, angry, sarcastic Morgana is, and all he wants is to get away.

"No." He spits out. "Absolutely not."

He jumps off the bed and edges around the room until he reaches the door.

"But Arthur, I think it could help y-"

"Stop it!" Arthur snaps. "I don't want to hear it."

Morgana's face falls and she turns her back on Arthur, who tries not to wince at the hurt look on her face. Instead, he opens the door and turns to leave.

"Will you tell Uther?" Morgana asks softly.

Arthur pauses, then answers, "No. But you just keep this to yourself."

"Okay."

Over the next few weeks, Arthur barely speaks two words to Morgana, who likewise returns the favours. He feels angry, distrustful, and most of all, betrayed. Morgana was his peer, his confidant, his ally in the war against religion, and now she's crossed over to the other side. Arthur has never felt more alone. He wants to ignore her, shut her out, but he finds himself unable to, and soon enough, he can't help but notice a subtle, but definite change in Morgana. She's relaxed, almost peaceful, and smiles more often. She still bickers with him and fights with Uther, but it isn't half as much as usual. It suddenly hits Arthur: she's happy. Not in a "sunshine, skipping through daisy fields with puppies," happy, but a deep, down-to-her-soul contentment.

He wonders what it must feels like to be that content with oneself, and these thoughts turn to curiosity about faith, and how it seems to fill people up with joy. Uther taught him long ago that to have faith in anything was to blind yourself to its possible dangers, but Arthur thinks that perhaps … he's wrong.

Eventually, Arthur's curiosity gets the better of him, and he waits in the sitting room one Sunday morning, dressed in trousers and a shirt.

"Okay, I want in," he says, as she walks into the room.

Morgana regards him strangely, before she nods and asks, "What made you change your mind?"

"You," Arthur replies. "You're all happy and… stuff. I want to see what the big deal is."

Morgana considers this, then nods and head out of the front door, Arthur following. They walk to the church in silence, Arthur feeling a strange pull and tightening in his chest as the large grey building looms ahead. As they approach the gate, Morgana stops and takes Arthur's hand.

Giving it a squeeze, she smiles at him and says gratefully, "Thank you."

Arthur nods in acknowledgement, and then follows her into the church. It's dim and cool inside, and perfumed smoke tickles the back of Arthur's throat. There are people scattered about the church, sitting on or kneeling at, long wooden benches, and up the top of the room, Arthur can see small boys and girls in robes arranging things on a large marble table, behind which is a golden box, and a giant statue of a man in a loincloth nailed to a cross. Arthur makes a small face at this, and turns his head away, concentrating on Morgana's back as she makes her way over to the side of the room.

They take a seat beside a very attractive couple: a woman with caramel skin, dark curly hair and large brown eyes, and a man with slightly lighter skin, shoulder-length black hair and equally soulful brown eyes.

Morgana hugs both of them, and then gestures towards Arthur as she says, "Gwen, Lance, this is Arthur. Arthur, these are my friends Gwen and Lance."

"Pleased to meet you," Arthur says, plastering a smile on his face as he shakes both their hands.

"And you." Lance smiles in return.

"We're so glad you could come Arthur, Morgana's told us so much about you," Gwen enthuses.

"Nothing bad I hope." Arthur jokes nervously.

"Oh no. Well, she told us you don't believe in a kind God…_ Not_ that that's a bad thing! Just, um, different, but different can be good!"

Arthur genuinely laughs at Gwen's babbling, and holds a hand up entreatingly.

"It's perfectly fine Gwen," he says warmly. "I know my beliefs seem strange; but I'm open to see what else is out there."

Gwen blushes and smiles. She, Lance and Morgana start talking, something about a RCIA, so Arthur tunes them out in favour of looking around the church. The walls are bare, and the windows are stained glass, depicting pictures of people with soft features and benign expressions. Up above him, and organ starts to play, and he can hear sounds of a choir warming up. As he looks around, Arthur notices people glancing at him suspiciously, most surreptitiously, some openly. He shifts in his seat, feeling uncomfortable and unwelcome, though he reasons that he deserves the looks after how he's acted through the years. He tries to smile winningly at them, but they just give him dark looks back.

Shrugging, Arthur looks up front, trying to quell the nervous fluttering in his stomach. All of a sudden, the organ booms out a tune, and everyone stands as the choir starts to sing. Arthur follows suit, looking about himself curiously, until a door at the top of the church opens, and a few people walk out: two boys and a girls in white robes, followed by two men – one, an old man in white and red robes, the other, a young man in a suit. They three children and young man take a seat at the side of the altar while the old man stands behind it.

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit," the priest begins, his right hand touching his forehead, chest, left and then right shoulder, before clasping it with his left.

"Good morning everyone," he says, smiling down at the congregation.

"Good morning father," the crowd murmurs back.

Arthur awkwardly tries to copy along with everyone else, but his interest is mostly focused on the young man at the side of the room. He can't help but wonder who he is and why he's up there.

As if hearing his thoughts, the priest continues, saying, "Before we begin the service, I'd like to introduce Merlin Emrys, a new trainee from the seminary in the next diocese."

The priest gestures to the man, who stands and walks over beside him, his posture perfect and confident.

"Thank you Father Gaius." Merlin smiles at the priest, and then turns that blinding grin to the congregation. "Hello everyone, I would like to say thank you for accepting me into your community, and I look forward to getting to know you all. This is my first parish since I started in the seminary four years ago, I'm glad I will be able to complete my final year here. Thank you."

Merlin nods, smiles at Father Gaius and walks back to where he had been sitting.

"Okay, let's begin with the opening prayer," Father Gaius instructs. "I pray to God for guidance…"

Arthur stumbles through the service, his thoughts too scattered to pay close attention. He did admit, if only to himself, that Morgana was right about it being relaxing; the songs were gentle and calming, and the prayers rhythmic and soothing. However, his mind was mostly elsewhere, focused on Merlin, who was watching the mass with rapt attention, a soft smile on his lips. Arthur can't help but stare, trying to figure out why someone so young would want to throw their life away like this. As he puzzles over Merlin's questionable state of mind, Arthur soon realises that his curious gaze has shifted into something a little softer, a little more wondering. It lingers on the nape of his neck, where his hair curls softly, the curve of his rather large, but nibbleable ears, his sharp cheekbones which accentuate his soft mouth and large Bambi-like eyes. Honestly, the various different parts that make Merlin up should not work together, they really shouldn't. But they did, and though Arthur realises he should most definitely NOT be checking out someone so tightly bound to religion, there's something about Merlin that just draws him in, makes him want to stare, and let his mind wander, imagine…

He's snapped out of his reverie by the thunderous sound of the organ and everyone rising to their feet, Merlin included. Arthur blinks and stands, turning to Morgana, who watches him with an odd look in her eye.

"So, what did you think?" She asks him innocently.

"Oh, um… It was interesting," Arthur mumbles. "Very relaxing, with the em, chants and whatnot."

"Really?" Morgana arches a brow. "I'm surprised you noticed anything given you spent the entire service staring at that trainee priest, what's his name, Marvin?"

"Merlin," Arthur replies automatically, cursing himself when Morgana's eyes light up and she smirks.

"Oh yes, _Merlin_." She corrects herself in a delighted tone.

She smiles all too knowingly at him, and he hurries to defend himself.

"I just can't understand why someone would want to throw their life away like that."

Morgana bursts out laughing and replies, "Oh yes, I'm sure that's exactly why you were staring at him like he was a piece of meat."

Arthur fights valiantly to keep from blushing, but is thwarted in the end.

He had come bursting out of the closet when he was sixteen, not because of raging hormones and a need to rebel, or because he was in the midst of a red-hot affair with a forbidden man, but because he'd had a dream. It had been a rather erotic dream, involving himself and a faceless male figure, doing all sorts of things that Arthur hadn't even known people could do. He'd woken up hard and flushed, and after a wank and some serious thought, he'd simply said, "Oh," and had promptly gone downstairs to tell Uther and Morgana, because if there was one thing Arthur prided himself on, it was his honesty. Uther and Morgana had been delighted; Uther because homosexuality was against nearly every type of religion, and Morgana because she could take him shopping and guy watching, and could prance about him in her underwear just to piss him off. She claimed she didn't care who saw, but oddly enough, she never did this when Uther was around, and Arthur enjoyed the times when she would squeak and go bright red before running into her room when she heard him coming in the house. One thing though, that Morgana had never gotten to do was tease Arthur about having a crush, because thus far, Arthur had never had a crush on anyone. This naturally had lead to Morgana questioning his sexuality several times over the past two years.

"I don't need to have a crush on a man to reaffirm my sexuality," he tells her every time. "I know who I am."

It isn't that Arthur is fussy or blind or anything, he does notice other men – Mr. Rathbourne, his woodwork teacher, made lessons more than interesting, and out of his friends (who, thankfully had been very open and accepting at his revelation), Gawain and Pell are fairly easy on the eyes. So while he does notice attractive men, he's always been very careful and subtle about it… Until now that is, because Merlin is unlike any other person Arthur has come across before.

Morgana eyes Arthur with radiant delight, and starts to outright cackle. Arthur rolls his eyes and walks away from Morgana, and Gwen and Lance, who are looking at them curiously.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asks Morgana.

"Oh nothing." Morgana smirks. "Arthur finally has a crush, and I have teasing and gloating material for the next several months if I'm lucky."

"Oh! Who's it on?" Gwen asks, probably more exited on Arthur's behalf than for the gossip and teasing factor, Morgana thinks fondly.

"It's on Merlin." She replies triumphantly.

Her good mood fades slightly at the shocked looks on her friends' faces.

"Merlin?" Lance asks quietly.

"Yes," Morgana replies matter-of-factly. "Merlin. Who's not a bad looking guy you know."

"Oh no, of course he's not," Gwen replies, flustered. "So um, Arthur is…"

"Gay," Morgana says bluntly. "Is there a problem?"

Morgana loves Gwen and Lance to absolute death, they're her best friends, but she knows that she wouldn't hesitate to run them through if it meant defending Arthur. Arthur and Uther are her family, and while she has _never_ considered Uther her father (he's something else entirely, something unknown and terrifying and exhilarating all at once), Arthur, to all intents and purposes, is her little brother, and she is fiercely loyal to him.

"Oh no, no problem at all," Gwen stammers. "It's just a bit of a shock is all, because well, Arthur doesn't look very… anyway, never mind, after all, to thine own self be true. And besides! Jesus would never be happy with us, and doesn't it say, let he who is without sin cast the first stone?"

"What Gwen means is that Jesus told us to love and respect one another, and put no stipulations on it." Lance explains.

Gwen smiles gratefully up at him, and then suddenly looks concerned.

"Arthur wouldn't um, try anything, would he?" She asks hesitantly.

"Oh goodness no!" Morgana laughs. "Arthur might fancy Merlin, but right now his main thought concerning him is that he's either mental, or a total eejit for wanting to devote himself to a religious order."

"Ah." Gwen nods, and then adds, "And speaking of which, I've got to go, I've been assigned as Merlin's guidance counsellor through his final year."

"She was chosen ahead of anyone else." Lance adds proudly.

Gwen flushes prettily, beaming, and Morgana hugs her, saying, "That's brilliant Gwen! We should go out to celebrate – lunch tomorrow? My treat."

"You don't make enough money to buy me lunch." Gwen laughs, not unkindly. "You could though, if you used your degree to get a better job – you're overqualified for the bookshop."

"Uther needs me," Morgana replies loftily, "and besides, I get the hours and holidays I want."

"Sure, _that's_ the reason you stay – the holidays." Gwen sighs, shaking her head, while Lance smothers a laugh with a cough.

Morgana sends them a LOOK, then sighs and says, "Anyway, must be off, before Arthur storms home without me and wakes Uther up. Good luck with your counselling."

"Thanks." Gwen smiles. "We'll see you on Monday eh?"

"Sure thing."

Morgana hugs them both, and then leaves the church, following Arthur, who she sees walking slowly away.

"So, are you coming back next weekend?" She asks, once she's caught up with him.

Arthur's silent for the next few minutes, and Morgana waits patiently, walking beside him.

"I suppose it would be unfair not to give it a fair shot," Arthur eventually answers.

"Glad to hear it." Morgana smiles. "Come on, let's get home before Uther gets up."

Merlin's talking to angels when Father Gaius finds him. Well, 'talking' is an exaggeration – it's more like he's reaching out to them, and feels their warmth and love in response. He had been feeling people staring at him all through mass, and had escaped to the priest's garden to sit and meditate and lose himself in unconditional love. It's something he's always been able to do – his mother had discovered it when he was two: she had walked into his room, and had screamed at the sight of her son surrounded by large, floating, glowing white creatures. As he grew, Hunith simply had become used to seeing them, and when Merlin was old enough, he had told her that they were angels sent by God, and he knew in his heart that he would devote his life to him, in one way or another.

Father Gaius rounds the corner of the church, to where the garden is, and stops short at the sight of his new student, sitting cross-legged on the grass, surrounded by floating white beings.

"What the-"

He stops himself, because he knows "devil," is entirely the wrong word to use in this situation, but he needn't have continued – at the first noise, Merlin is up, bright red, and trying to explain himself.

"Father Gaius!" He stutters. "I can, um, I can explain."

Father Gaius raises a brow and says, "I should hope so. Come my boy, let us go for a walk, and you can explain."

He doesn't wait, simply starts walking into the heart of the garden, and Merlin quickly catches up, his long strides slowing and shortening to match those of his mentor's. They walk in silence for a while, before Merlin begins to explain about the angels, and God's love and everything he's known all his life.

"I see," Father Gaius says, once he's finished. "Is there anyone else who knows about your… ability?"

"My mother," Merlin replies, "and Will, an old friend and my first counsellor."

Father Gaius hums and nods, mulling over all this new information.

Eventually, he turns to Merlin and says, "Perhaps it is best if you don't tell anyone about this – people can be very superstitious and mistrusting."

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it." Merlin assures him.

"Good." Father Gaius nods. "Anyway, it's time for you to meet your new councillor."

Father Gaius leads Merlin back to the church, and into the sacristy, where a woman, around Merlin's age, maybe older, stands washing some sacred vessels in the sacrarium.

"Gwen my dear, you don't need to worry about that," Father Gaius calls out.

The woman jumps and spins around, cheeks flushed.

"Father Gaius!" She stutters. "I was just helping, not that I don't think you can do it yourself, you're more than capable, but you've got two more masses and they can be tiring…"

"It's quite all right dear." Father Gaius smiles fondly, raising a hand. "Why don't you come over here and meet Merlin."

"Oh! Hello." Gwen smiles, stepping forward and offering her hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise." Merlin smiles back, shaking her hand, and feeling comfortable in her presence already.

"I'll let you two talk," Father Gaius says, stepping away. "Don't forget – mass is in five minutes."

"I'll be there," Merlin tells him, then takes a seat on the couch beside Gwen.

"I won't keep you long." Gwen assures him. "I just want to sort out when you'll be available for our weekly meetings."

"Oh, yes, um, is Tuesday all right?"

Gwen pulls a black organiser out of her bag and flips it open. She studies her schedule, then smiles and says, "Yes that's perfect, say 5 o'clock?"

"Great."

Merlin and Gwen chat for a few minutes more, Merlin telling her about moving from Armagh to go to a seminary in Sligo, and Gwen telling him about the town; who attends mass on a regular basis, when different events were on, and where he could get the best tea and cake. Eventually, they hear the sounds of the organ warming up, and stand to say goodbye.

"I'll see you on Tuesday yeah? And don't forget to try out Moira's," Gwen tells him, giving him and quick hug.

"I won't," Merlin replies. "Have a good day."

Gwen exits out the back door, and Merlin goes to find Gaius and prepare for mass.

So, there's chapter 2 for you! What do you think? Please comment and let me know!

Sláinte!


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Dóchas

**Author:** phys_nut

**Beta:** dwarfandelf

**Summary:** [this chapter] Arthur and Merlin meet for the first time, and Merlin has his first session with Gwen.

**Word Count: **2,861

**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin, Uther/Morgana

**Warnings:** religious themes, but nothing preachy or anything like that. Age differences (Arthur/Merlin – 18/24, Uther/Morgana – 39/26)

**Disclaimer: **none of this is mine, it all belongs to the BBC and Arthurian Legend.

**A/N: **my most sincere apologies for taking so long with this chapter, I went home for the holidays and proceeded to do NOTHING but eat, watch films and play epic board games (and get messily pluthered, but that's neither here nor there!). Anyhoo, I'm back to work and all that, so I will be updating the story once a week again and it'll be done in no time!

Big thank you to those who reviewed: **Jammeke – **yeah, Uther's got so many problems, I figured he had to have some sort of redeaming quality about him! And thanks, I love Morgana, so I'm glad you like her too! **spinner313 – **glad you're enjoying the story and hopefully you'll continue to do so!

Please read and enjoy! :D

Arthur spends the rest of the morning out the back of the house, with his sliotar and hurl, smacking the small leather ball up and down the field, carrying it on the flat of the hurl, ducking and twisting around imaginary opponents, and scoring points and goals(1). He keeps going and going, until his mind is blank, void of all thoughts of mass, God or pale, skinny trainee priests. At that stage, his legs are trembling, and his lungs are working furiously to inhale and exhale. Tossing his gear in his room, he goes for a long, hot shower, and on his way back to his room, bumps into his father.

"Arthur, have you thought any more about university?" Uther asks him, eyeing him in the way only parents can when they expect to be disappointed. "I know how stressful your Leaving Certificate was, and I understand the need for taking a year off, but you must have an education. You know your CAO form(2) is due in two months time, have you even given it any thought?"

"Of course I have," Arthur replies, all eager wide eyes and enthusiasm. "I'm just trying to whittle down my list of choices."

"Very well." Uther nods.

He gives Arthur a small smile, claps him on the back, and continues down the hallway. Arthur sighs in relief and hurries to his room. What he had just told Uther is total bollocks – Arthur hasn't given a moment's thought to his college choices since he was handed his CAO form and booklet the previous year. While a part of him wishes he had chosen some bullshit course at UCG so he could have gone off with Pell and the lads to live up the student life, a bigger part knows he wouldn't have been happy unless he was doing something he really wanted to do. And therein lies the problem – just what does he want to do? Arthur sighs and opens his desk drawer. He reaches in and pulls out his form and booklets, and gazes at them long and hard. Right.

While growing old is compulsory, and growing up is optional, there are certain things which must be done if one is to have any sort of peaceful life, and for Arthur, that is deciding on a college course. Arthur knows that if any sort of decision is to be made, he's going to need tea, and lots of it. And probably some cake too.

"Right," Arthur mutters to himself, "Moira's it is then."

He dries himself and gets dressed, then gathers his things together. On the way out, he finds Morgana and Uther in the conservatory, playing Spit(3), the two of them goading each other on, haggling and laughing uproariously.

"I'm going to Moira's," Arthur calls in as they reach a break in the game, "do you want anything?"

"Jam doughnuts," they call simultaneously, neither looking away from the challenging stares they're giving each other.

"Sure thing, back in a while," Arthur calls, and walks off, trying to ignore the curl in his gut that occurs whenever he sees Uther and Morgana act a certain way around each other, because it means absolutely NOTHING.

Arthur makes his way to Moira's, by total luck manages to snag a free table in the corner, sets his things up, and is humming and hawing by the counter over what cake to get, when the bell above the door tinkles and in walks Merlin. Arthur tries his best of to surreptitious, but knows that he is obviously staring. Hurriedly, he orders a slice of carrot cake and tea, and makes his way back to his table, where he buries his head in the university courses booklet. A few minutes later, he hears footsteps approaching his table, and thinking it's his order, looks up into bright, oh so blue eyes that regard him quizzically.

"Sorry, do you mind if I sit here? All the other tables are taken and full," Merlin asks apologetically.

Arthur automatically nods, and his brain curses while his heart melts at the grateful smile Merlin gives him, before sitting down and shrugging off his coat.

"I'm Merlin."

"I know," Arthur says, blushes and then quickly adds, "I saw you in mass this morning."

"Oh! Good yes. Good sermon on judge not lest ye be judged, don't you think, um?"

"Arthur," Arthur tells him. "I didn't really follow everything the priest was saying, but the sentiment was nice."

"Arthur…" Merlin murmurs, as if trying to recall something.

His eyebrows quirk and he asks hesitantly, "You wouldn't be… Morgana's brother, would you?"

"Yes." Arthur frowns. "How did you know?"

"Gwen's my new counsellor," Merlin tells him. "She told me about the town and her friends in church."

"You have a counsellor?" Arthur can't help but smirk.

"Not like that." Merlin grins good-naturedly, rolling his eyes. "We just have someone who's there for us when we're in the seminary, and then during our time before ordination, just to talk with once a week about how we're feeling, any problems we might have, and do we feel truly ready to commit ourselves to God."

Arthur involuntarily makes a face at this, and Merlin says, a little hesitantly, "Gwen did mention that you don't have…much faith?"

"You mean, I believe that God is cruel and merciless and we'd be better off not believing in him?"

"Well, yes."

"I… have my own issues with God and religion."

"What sort?"

Just then, their tea and cakes arrive. Arthur thanks the waitress, takes a bite of his cake and asks bluntly, "Why do you want to be a priest?"

Merlin, seemingly engrossed in stirring his tea, murmurs, "Because I want to devote myself to God."

"Why?"

Merlin smiles in a bemused manner, and replies, "Because I have felt his love around me every day of my life, and truly believe that my act of love for him is to be his servant and vessel."

"But why? Surely there are other things you would rather do with your life?"

Merlin starts, and looks up at Arthur sharply, but the bemused smile never leaves his lips. After a few moments, he says, "I'll tell you something that not very many people know. Yes I grew up feeling God's love, and believing completely in him, but for years, I believed that my vocation was to try and prove God's existence through science."

"What's a vocation?" Arthur asks, trying to keep from laughing at the notion of mixing science and religion.

"It's God's calling for what you are to do with your life. And there's no need to be a total gob and laugh about it."

"Sorry." Arthur coughs back a laugh, and puts on his best serious listening face. "Please go on."

Mollified, Merlin continues. "Like I said, I believed my vocation was to have a career in science, while continuing to work in the church – giving out communion, cleaning, organising leaflets, that sort of thing. I was home from my third year of a physics degree, when a girl in my neighbourhood, Freya, became very ill and unstable – as it turn out, she was possessed. I went to the house one day to drop off a lasagne from mum, and to wish her well, when I felt myself being drawn to Freya. The moment I touched her arm, I felt this surge of knowing, and with a quick prayer, I exorcised her. People were freaked, as was I, and the next thing I knew, I had a letter from Bishop Kilgarrah, telling me that it was a calling from God, and inviting me to join the priesthood. I decided to give it a try, and the moment I set foot in the seminary, everything clicked. That was four years ago, and still, I know that this is what I'm meant to do."

Merlin finishes, looking peaceful and happy, and Arthur, unsure and uncomfortable in the face of such faith, blurts out, "My mother was shot when I was five."

Merlin regards him with wide, sympathetic eye, and Arthur, not knowing why he's telling a stranger any of this, but feeling a release at being able to talk about this for the first time in over ten years, continues.

"My father was a reverend, and he and I spent three days straight praying for God to help her… but it didn't work. She died, and I haven't had any faith in anything since."

"Oh Arthur," Merlin clucks sympathetically, "that is very tragic, but it's not God's fault your mother died."

"But we prayed, and he did nothing for her!"

"God tends to the soul, not the physical body. He is not all controlling."

"Well, if we had not had much faith in God, perhaps my father and I wouldn't have been as devastated when she died."

"Do you honestly believe that Arthur?" Merlin asks, with a quirk of his brow.

Arthur silently mulls this over, while Merlin sips his tea and nibbles on his chocolate cake. Eventually, Arthur realises that no, he didn't believe that. Whether he had prayed or not, he would have been completely heartbroken at the loss of Ygraine. He had just chosen to follow Uther in taking his subsequent anger out on the one thing that had given him hope and comfort during that awful time. Arthur feels something break all over again, but before he can figure it out, Merlin speaks again.

"You're filling out your CAO form?"

"Oh, um, yeah." Arthur nods, then adds, "Well, trying to decide what course I want to do."

"Ah. So you're in sixth year?"

"No, got the Leaving over and done with the summer just past. I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do, so I took a break."

"It can be a tough decision." Merlin agrees. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"Something to do with sports maybe." Arthur shrugs. "I'm only eighteen; I don't have a clue what I want to do with my life – not all of us have God whispering our vocation in our ear you know."

Merlin chuckles and replies very much unsympathetically, "Isn't it tragic for the confused and aimless eh?"

Arthur scowls and Merlin says in a bemused tone, "As I am neither, and have reached the ripe old age of twenty four, all I can say is do what you love and are enthusiastic about; the rest will fall into place."

"Cheers Obi-Wan," Arthur snarks.

"No problem Young Skywalker." Merlin smirks.

Arthur laughs and tucks into his tea and cake, Merlin following suite. They finish up and pay, Arthur grabbing a packet of jam doughnuts, and walk outside together, giving each other smiles as they turn to say goodbye.

"Arthur…" Merlin hesitates and then plunges on. "I think you need to learn to see religion and faith differently. You were at church, so I'm guessing that you'd be open to it."

"I guess…" Arthur replies slowly.

"Great. Then if you're up for it, I'd like for us to meet up, once a week in the evening, to discuss God and religion."

Arthur looks at Merlin's expression; his bright eyes and eager smile, and finds he can't say no. He also realises that he finds Merlin to be smart and funny, and fun and relaxing to be around, which is why he finds himself saying, "Okay, but only if we can have another evening to just hang out and be friends. I'd like to show you that there's more to life than God."

Merlin gives Arthur an appraising smile, and says, "Deal," while sticking his hand out.

Arthur takes it, and feels something bloom in his chest as he shakes it.

"How about Wednesdays for chat, and Fridays for hanging?" Merlin suggests.

"Sounds great, I'll see you then." Arthur smiles.

The two men go their separate ways, each smiling and feeling a little flutter of hope and friendship.

"Here you go," Merlin says, handing Gwen a cup of tea as he takes a seat opposite her.

It's their first session, and they're in the sitting room of the priest's house. Merlin's tired from a day of lessons and practicals with Father Gaius, and slightly nervous about the session: yes, Gwen is an absolutely lovely person, but that didn't necessarily mean that their sessions would go smoothly.

"So, how was your day?" Gwen asks pleasantly.

"Tiring, but all right," Merlin replies. "Father Gaius has been working me pretty hard on the scriptures and psalms, but it's enjoyable. How was yours?"

"It was good." Gwen smiles. "Lance took me to see an art show over in Galway."

"Nice." Merlin nods. "So… do you have your set list of questions to ask me?"

"Actually," Gwen says bashfully, "I was thinking of winging it and just making this more of a chat; might be more relaxing."

"Oh good," Merlin sighs in relief. "Will was the same; he hated the formality of what it was supposed to be."

"Same here." Gwen grins. "So Will was your previous counsellor?"

Merlin nods and tells her, "He was more than that too; he was my best friend, and when he heard I needed a councillor, he barged straight in to Father Geoffrey's office and demanded the position."

Merlin chuckles at the memory of his friend bursting into his room and yelling out proudly, "If I can't convince you that you shouldn't be doing this, then no one can."

Gwen smiles into her tea as she takes a sip and then asks, "I don't mean to be rude, but, why are you here? Father Gaius hasn't had a student in years."

"I'm going to specialise in exorcism," Merlin tells her, "and Father Gaius is the highest expert in Ireland."

Gwen's jaw drops before she catches herself and says in a shocked tone, "Are you serious? Exorcisms are very dangerous."

"Not with the Grace of God on your side," Merlin tells her calmly. "All sorts of things like driving a car, or eating take away are dangerous, but we have faith that no harm will come to us."

Gwen eyes him speculatively for a few moments, before smiling and nodding. They sip their tea in a comfortable silence, and after a few moments, Gwen clears her throat and decides to get down to business.

"So how are you feeling about being out of the seminary?"

"It's okay," Merlin replies. "It's a little strange to have a room to myself again, and be in such a quiet place, but I'm adjusting. I do miss my friends."

"Oh? Anyone in particular?" Gwen asks curiously, but Merlin detects a strange edge underneath it.

"No," he replies with a shake of his head, "I didn't have any particularly close friends in the seminary. There was a group of us – Cedrice, Valient, Mordred and myself, who shared a room, and were tutored by Brother Alaric and Sister Morgause, and I talked to some other students at meal times, but honestly my only close friend is Will."

"Ah yes, Will," Gwen murmurs. "Tell me about him; what's he like?"

Merlin frowns at the slight tenseness in Gwen's shoulders, and replies, "I met Will ten years ago when I first moved to Ireland; he's obnoxious and opinionated, and we became instant friends. He was Catholic by birth and little else, but when I started going to mass he joined me, purely so he could argue with me about it afterwards. In time, I helped him develop a sense of faith in God, but even when I joined the seminary, he still continued to try and persuade me to leave."

"Why?"

"He believed I was wasting my youth and 'viril malehood,' as he put it," Merlin explains with a grin. "He tried dragging me out to strip clubs, throwing women at me; he even threw himself at me, which amused his girlfriend to no end, but eventually, he relented and agreed that God is the only one for me."

Gwen chuckles and visibly relaxes, and Merlin smiles, feeling like he's passed some sort of test.

"Will sounds like a good friend."

"He's annoying," Merlin laughs, "but he has my best intentions at heart."

"How does he feel about you being here?"

"He's a bit put out, but he understands. I've been promised letters of epic proportions while I'm gone."

He and Gwen share a laugh, and continue to sip their tea.

"So what made you want to work so closely with the church?" Merlin asks curiously.

"My dad," Gwen replies, with a soft, affectionate smile. "He wasn't religious himself, but when I mentioned wanting to go to church, he took me no questions asked. He always encouraged me to treat everyone equally, and to have faith in people. He was the best influence in my life."

"He sounds like a great man."

Merlin and Gwen chat a while more about faith, and then Father Gaius comes in to tell Merlin that dinner's ready.

"I'll see you on Sunday?" Gwen asks as she puts on her coat.

"Sure thing." Merlin grins. "Have a good week."

Gwen waves him goodbye, and Merlin goes to join Father Gaius for dinner, before evening prayer and reading.

(1) What Arthur's playing is a game called hurling, an official irish sport. Check out this youtube video: .com/watch?v=TmzivRetelE

(2) CAO is the Central Application Office, and it's how students apply for university/college courses: .net/~

(3) Spit is a two player card game, where the object is to get rid of all your cards. Here's a list of the rules: .

And that's it for chapter 3, chapter 4 to follow this weekend! Please let me know what you think of it!

Sláinte


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Dóchas

**Author:** phys_nut

**Beta:** dwarfandelf

**Summary:** [this chapter] Arthur and Merlin talk religion, and hang out.

**Word Count: **2,992

**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin, Uther/Morgana

**Warnings:** religious themes, but nothing preachy or anything like that. Age differences (Arthur/Merlin – 18/24, Uther/Morgana – 39/26)

**Disclaimer: **none of this is mine, it all belongs to the BBC and Arthurian Legend.

**A/N: **howayis! Back, as promised, with the next chapter – big thanks to those who reviewed – **Ricoch3t: **I most definitely aimed to be non-preachy, cause that's one of the things I find so annoying about most religious folk! Please do continue to read, I hope you enjoy it!

Please read and enjoy! :D

"Hello," Arthur says with a grim smile as Merlin opens the door of the priest's house.

"Hello Arthur, I'm glad you could make it." Merlin smiles beatifically, and Arthur has to swallow and forcibly stop himself from staring.

Merlin leads him into the sitting room, where there's tea and biscuits waiting on a coffee table. Arthur takes a seat on the couch, and tries not to read anything into it when Merlin sits beside him.

"Tea?"

"Please," Arthur replies, and looks around the room as Merlin pours a cup.

The room is large and resplendent in cream and red, with ornate furniture and pictures of God, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the Saints on the walls.

"Milk, sugar?" Merlin asks.

"Tiny bit of milk, no sugar."

Merlin does so, hands Arthur his cup, and then proceeds to dump a large quantity of milk in his own cup.

"Do you like tea with your milk?" Arthur asks teasingly, unable to help himself.

Merlin flushes slightly, but smirks and replies off the bat, "Do you always dress so formally?"

Arthur tugs self-consciously at his shirt collar and glances at Merlin lounging in a pair of baggyish jeans and a t-shirt, and then at his own shirt and slacks. And to think he had nearly worn a tie. Mercy.

"Well…not all of us, uh…" He struggles, trying to think of a suitable comeback, when Merlin laughs.

"I'm only teasing ye. If that's the way you dress then fair enough, it looks good on you. But please don't dress up on my account."

"Oh, cheers," Arthur mumbles, full-on blushing at this stage. "I'll keep that in mind. So," he adds brightly, "what words of religious wisdom have you to impart on me?"

"No no, I don't want it to be some sort of lecture or lesson." Merlin shakes his head. "What do you want to talk about?"

'Anything but religion,' Arthur's mind supplies helpfully, but instead, Arthur finds himself saying, "Just how do you think science and religion can actually mix?"

"Ah, now that's an interesting topic." Merlin smiles.

He takes a sip of his tea, and continues speaking.

"Science is absolutely wonderful; it helps us understand so much about our world. But there are things we cannot explain, things science cannot understand."

"Yes, but thousands of years ago, human couldn't explain why the seasons change, or their crops grew, so they were attributed to Gods and religion," Arthur points out, slightly argumentative, slightly curious about what Merlin will say. "Surely eventually science will do the same for today's unexplained occurrences."

"Probably," Merlin agrees, "but only for some things. There are things science can't explain."

"Such as?" Arthur asks, raising a challenging brow."

"Courage, honesty, determination, humour, imagination, the human spirit," Merlin lists off, raising a brow in reply. "Where are the equations for them?"

Arthur stares; feeling a little overwhelmed, but pushes on stubbornly.

"Maybe, but science is still out to prove religion wrong."

"Ah, right now it is." Merlin grins. "But in the end, I believe that science will ultimately back quite a lot of religion up. It already does in some ways. Take for example, life after death."

"Woah, woah, woah," Arthur says, raising a hand up and nearly chocking on his tea. "How is science supposed to back that up, because paranormal activity and ghosts don't count."

"Patience young grasshopper." Merlin chuckles. "I'm getting to it. Are you familiar with the principle of the Conservation of Energy?"

"Energy can't be created or destroyed, but only changed from one form to another," Arthur rattles off, wondering where Merlin is going with this.

"Exactly. So when we're born, energy has been transferred from out parents to us. We are pure energy stored in atoms, molecules and cells – we are always moving, breathing, living. But when we die, what happens to that energy?"

"Well it die-" Arthur starts, then freezes, mouth gaping as he contemplates what Merlin's trying to tell him. "The energy…is turned into another form."

"Exactly!" Merlin beams. "Our bodies die, but we live on in our new life after death as… well, whatever that energy becomes – that same energy that God has."

"Okay okay," Arthur says, still feeling a little shell-shocked, "what about the bible? I haven't read it myself, but I've heard there are some questionable stories in it."

Later that evening, Arthur heads home, his head whirling with all sorts of ideas about science and religion, and a bible in his bag.

"Don't be a prat about something you know nothing about," Merlin had stated, lips set in a thin line.

He had stood, strode over to the bookshelf and pulled down a small, well-read bible, and had pressed it into a blushing Arthur's hand.

"If you want to argue about the bible, then you read the bible," he had said archly.

Arthur had quickly nodded, and then just as quickly, had changed topic to the argument about science subjects in religious schools. There had been talk of seculism, clashing religions, and the balance of belief and fanaticism, before Merlin had had to excuse himself for evening prayer and reading.

"I'll see you on Friday, yeah?" Arthur had asked, as he stepped out the front door.

"Definitely," Merlin had grinned. "Where will I meet you?"

"I'll be driving, so I'll pick you up here, okay?"

"Perfect, I'll see you then."

Arthur steps in through his front door, manages to keep a straight face all the way to his bedroom, and once inside, collapses on his bed and allows the goofy smile, which had been fighting it's way to the surface all night, to burst onto his face.

Merlin's planning his next chat with Arthur out, smiling to himself as he remembers Arthur's passionate arguing, but his humility and open-mindedness as well. Merlin loves debating with people, and is glad that he's found a kindred spirit in Arthur.

"Nicely done my boy," Father Gaius says approvingly, "good interpretation of the gospel passage."

Merlin snaps to attention, and mumbles a hurried thanks and apology at Father Gaius' disapproving eyebrows.

"I apologise if this is boring you Merlin," Father Gaius says dryly, "but it is most important."

"I know Father, sorry."

Father Gaius smiles and says, "Quite all right. Now, I was thinking that next week we'll begin on Matthew's Gospel, but for today, let's look at the Catechism, perhaps The Celebration of the Christian Mystery?"

Merlin nods and tries his best to look awake and enthusiastic, and Father Gaius stands to fetch the giant book.

"Father?" Merlin asks hesitantly.

"Yes my boy?"

"I don't mean to be rude or impatient, but… when will I be learning about exorcisms?"

Father Gaius glances sharply at him, but then his features relax into an understanding expression.

"In due time. Bishop Kilgarragh has explained your…miracle, but nevertheless, I want to make sure you're mentally and informatively prepared to deal with it."

"Okay," Merlin replies, hiding his disappointment. "I understand."

The old priest smiles and nods, then sits back down, placing the Catechism on the table between them.

As he thumbs through it, he murmurs, "Merlin, about your ability… how long are you able to summon angels for?"

"I don't know, I've never tried to find out." Merlin shrugs.

"I would like you to summon them now, and try to keep them here while you carry out your lesson."

"Okay," Merlin acquiesces, slightly bewildered.

He closes his eyes and uncurls an inner part of himself, which naturally reaches out and up in supplication, singing out with faithful joy. At once, he is surrounded by angels, and he basks in their warmth as he focuses on his studies. Merlin manages to keep them around for the next three hours. During that time, Father Gaius flinches every now and then, as if touched by something, but nothing is said. By the time they fade away, Merlin's drooping with exhaustion, and Father Gaius looks both stunned and thrilled.

"Very good job." He beams, clapping Merlin on the shoulder. "Take the rest of the day off."

Merlin nods, smiles gratefully, and wanders down to his room, where he throws on a Rachmaninov record and collapses in bed for a sound nap.

"So where are we going?" Merlin asks, as he gets into Arthur's car.

"I was thinking, food, cinema and the arcade?"

"Sounds good," Merlin smiles.

Arthur flashes him a bright grin, shifts the car into gear and drives off. After he fiddles with a few buttons, music fills the car, and Merlin bursts out laughing.

"What? Do you have a problem with my music?"

"No no," Merlin giggles, "I just never had you pegged as a Queen fan."

"Freddy is my idol," Arthur declares loftily, then bursts into song, "Heeerrre we are! Born to be kings, we're the princes of the univerrrsse!"

Merlin laughs and then joins in, and the two sing their hearts out to Queen, all the way into the city.

"So, what are you in the mood for, because I'm thinking steak," Arthur says, smacking his lips, as they walk down the high street towards the restaurant section of town.

"Mmm yeah," Merlin agrees eagerly, his stomach rumbling in anticipation. "With mushroom sauce."

"Mushroom?" Arthur winces, his nose wrinkling. "You madman, everyone knows pepper sauce is the only way to go."

"Well as a servant of the Lord, I can tell you that God himself declared mushroom sauce the most heavenly." Merlin grins.

"Good thing I'm not on good terms with the oul chap – I'll take my heathen sauce over him any day." Arthur grins teasingly.

"You never know, I may convert you yet."

"That's the only reason you're befriending me isn't it – you're gathering more brainwashed drones for your future flock!" Arthur gasps mock indignantly.

Merlin sighs dramatically and replies, "Yes, I'm afraid so. Drat, you have caught me out."

"S'alright." Arthur shrugs nonchalantly. "I'm only befriending you so I can lure you away from the Church with promises of drink and festive fun."

"Remind me never to introduce you to Will; he's been trying the same thing for ten years." Merlin chuckles.

"Oohh, I should collaborate with him; we can plot your tragic downfall," Arthur says gleefully.

Merlin's lips quirk and he shakes his head before pointing at a steakhouse across the road and saying, "How about there?"

Arthur nods, and the two enter the restaurant and are quickly seated. A waitress with a pretty smile and flowers in her hair is immediately over, subtly trying to push her chest out while batting her lashes at Arthur.

"Hello, I'm Sophia and I'll be your waitress for this evening," she says breathily. "Would you gents like a drink while you decide on your order?"

"We're ready to place our orders now actually," Arthur says charmingly.

Sophia efficiently whips out a notepad and pen and says, "Okay, what'll it be?"

"I'll have the twelve ounce sirloin with pepper sauce, well done please."

"Chips, baked potato or salad?"

"Chips please."

"And to drink?"

"I'll have a glass of milk please."

"Very well then. And for you sir?" She asks Merlin, not fully turning her cleavage away from Arthur.

"I'll have the fifteen ounce fillet steak with mushroom sauce, medium-rare with salad and a glass of coke please."

"All right then," Sophia nods, jotting his order down. "I'll be back with your drinks in a jiffy."

She gives Arthur one last lingering look and walks off, hips swaying probably more than they should.

Arthur barely notices; he's too busy rolling his eyes in exasperation and saying, "Salad, really Merlin? No wonder you're so skinny, you need major carbo-loading."

"At least I'm not the one ruining a perfectly good piece of steak by having it well done." Merlin snarks back.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting my food cooked."

"Cremated would be the better word – you might as well be chewing on old leather."

They exchange jibes about each other's choice of food and drink until Sophia comes back with said drinks – she places Merlin's neatly in front of him, and then bends right into Arthur's personal space to place his milk beside his hand. Arthur catches Merlin's eye as she straightens, and has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the mirth he sees in the other man's eyes.

Once Sophia walks off, Merlin outright grins and says, "Looks like you've got an admirer."

Arthur snorts and replies, "She's on a wild goose chase with that one."

"You're not interested?"

"Nah, she's not my type."

"Oh. What is?" Merlin asks curiously.

Arthur is honest and blunt to a fault with everyone he meets, so generally this would be where he says, "Male," and is done with it. But Merlin's religious, and Arthur doesn't know how he feels about gay peoples. What's between them feels wonderful and fragile, and Arthur won't, can't risk ruining it.

Therefore, he wrinkles his nose and answers, "Not so… girly," which is as honest as he can get, given the circumstances.

"Ah, so you like tomboy girls."

"Yeah." Arthur nods, and quickly changes the subject. "So, where are you from? Your accent sounds mostly Northern, but there's a hint of something else I can't quite place."

"You're right," Merlin replies, his face slightly distant. "My parents were both from Northern Ireland, but when my father died, my mother moved over to England. I grew up there, and when I was fourteen, we moved back to Armagh. I was always getting teased because I had a mongrel accent from my mother and my friends," he finishes with a soft laugh.

Arthur frowns, his heart clenching at the thought of Merlin being unhappy.

"I'm sorry about your father," he says, his voice low and rough.

"It's okay, he died before I was born – can't miss what you never had, you know?" Merlin shrugs, a sad smile on his lips.

"Still, it must have been tough growing up without a father."

"At times, but my mother's a fantastic woman."

"I bet she is," Arthur smiles, his voice fond.

Their food arrives then; Sophia tries more "subtle" flirting, but Arthur fixes his attention on Merlin, and she gives up with a small pout. The men favour silence and eating in the presence of good food, and when they're done, they both lean back in their chairs with satisfied sighs.

"Desert?"

"Nu-uh," Merlin groans, "I'm fit to burst."

"Oh yes, what with all that salad you ate," Arthur teases.

Merlin sticks his tongue out, and Arthur's glad that Sophia pops up at that moment, to distract him from the giant flip his stomach does.

"Would you like the desert menu?" She asks, positively trying to light up the room with her giant smile.

"No thank you, can we just have the bill please?" Merlin asks politely.

Sophia wilts slightly, but nods and says pleasantly, "Of course."

She returns with the bill; Merlin and Arthur pay, and leave her a generous tip before they leave and head towards the cinema.

"So, what do you want to see?" Arthur asks, as they walk in the cinema entrance.

"Oh, I'm not too sure, I haven't been to the cinema in a long while," Merlin replies sheepishly.

"That's all right. I heard Batman Begins is supposed to be quite good – lots of explosions and ass-kicking."

"Sounds like fun," Merlin grins.

They get their tickets, head into the screen, whisper through the trailers, and then are enrapt by the movie. When it ends, they come out babbling excitedly and re-enacting some of the more memorable bits.

"Oh, and remember when he-" Merlin kicks the air and shoots and imaginary gun.

"Yeah! And then the other guy was all, Argh! Eugh! Bam! Bam!" Arthur yells.

They continue in this fashion all the way to the arcade, where Arthur beats Merlin at all the fighting games, and Merlin trounces him at the racing games. Several times, Arthur catches Merlin eyeing up the Dance Dance Revolution game, and eventually he smirks and says, "You do realise that that's a girl's game, right Meerrrlin?"

"Making excuses cause you know I'll beat you?" Merlin smirks back.

Arthur squares up and says, "Is that a challenge?"

Merlin leans in and says wickedly, "Bring it on Pendragon."

Arthur involuntarily shivers and stiffly turns and marches towards the game, Merlin strolling behind. They take their places; Merlin puts €2 in and selects the difficult level, Arthur copying him. The game begins, and while it starts off easy enough, Arthur quickly realises he's way in over his head. The arrows keep coming faster and faster, and he struggle vainly to keep up. Beside him, Merlin's all flushed cheeks and flailing limbs, but his feet are flying, scoring 'perfect' after 'perfect' after 'perfect'. The song finally ends; Arthur has a C- and Merlin an A+. Merlin smirks at Arthur as he climbs off the platform, Arthur himself staggering off.

"So, what's next?" Merlin asks, eyes sparkling wickedly.

"Aren't you going to rub your win in my face?" Arthur asks snarkily.

"Oh no; one must always remain gracious and humble in victory," Merlin says diplomatically, though his smirk belays his tone.

Arthur snorts and walks off to the shooter games, Merlin falling in step beside him.

"Just wondering though – what's it like being beaten at a girl's game?" Merlin asks innocently. "I'm only asking because it's never happened to me before."

Arthur laughs and picks up a gun for a zombie shooter game.

"Come here and let me kick your ass."

"You can try."

They play a few more games before deciding to call it a night. At this stage, Merlin's visibly tired. He bids Arthur goodnight with droopy eyes and a sleepy smile, and Arthur grips the steering wheel tightly to keep himself from grabbing him and kissing the living daylights out of him. He watches Merlin walk up to the house and in the front door, and has to take a few moments to compose himself before he can drive home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Dóchas

**Author:** phys_nut

**Beta:** dwarfandelf

**Summary:** [this chapter] Arthur and Merlin become closer, and they hang out with Morgana, Gwen and Lance.

**Word Count: **3,837

**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin, Uther/Morgana

**Warnings:** religious themes, but nothing preachy or anything like that. Age differences (Arthur/Merlin – 18/24, Uther/Morgana – 39/26)

**Disclaimer: **none of this is mine, it all belongs to the BBC and Arthurian Legend.

**A/N: **howayis! Back, as promised, with the next chapter – big thanks to those who reviewed – **Ricoch3t: **I'm really glad you're enjoying all the theories and everything in the story, this is something I've been thinking about for nearly ten years now, so these are my own views and how I've come to peace with my own religion and what it means to me. That said, they science/religion theories can be interpreted in many different ways – a friend of mine uses the conservation of energy and death in the total opposite way as in proving there's no life after death, which I'm perfectly happy to accept as her belief, cause it's all just how you look at something after all. There are a few more theories and whatnot to get through, so hopefully you continue to enjoy them!

Please read and enjoy! :D

"Hello!" Gwen says brightly as Morgana and Arthur join her and Lance in church.

"Glad to see you back Arthur," Lance says warmly.

"Well, you never know how you truly feel about something after only one time. I want to give this a fair go," Arthur replies sagely.

"Glad to hear it," a different, but familiar voice says.

Arthur jumps and turns to see Merlin, standing beside their pew.

"Good morning." He smiles at all of them.

"Good morning." Morgana smiles back. "How are you?"

"Very well thank you. Mind if I sit with you all?"

"Not at all, please do," Gwen says sweetly.

Merlin sits and beams at Arthur, who grins goofily back. Quickly though, he's drawn in to a conversation with Morgana and Gwen about transub-something or other, which Arthur tries, but fails to follow. Instead, he focuses on looking around the church; taking in the pictures on the wall – the Twelve Station of the Cross, St. John the Baptist, Jesus curing the lepers. Again, he notices that other people in the church are staring at him, some still suspiciously, but some in confusion. Arthur mentally chuckles, and then stands as the organ plays and mass begins. This time, he really tries to pay attention to everything that's happening, but it's so hard with Merlin pressed against him from shoulder to knee. Somehow, he manages to keep up with the standing, sitting and kneeling, mumbling vague noises under his breath, and he breathes a sigh of relief when it's all over.

"How was it this week?" Merlin asks him, as they walk out of the church.

"Better. Still a bit confusing and hard to keep up with, but better," Arthur admits.

"Good. So, will I see you at Moira's again this week?" Merlin asks with a hopeful edge.

Arthur's heart leaps, and he has to remind himself that it means nothing, that Merlin's just being friendly. He's about to reply, when Morgana jumps in.

"Oh, you saw Merlin at Moira's last week did you?" She asks, amusement tingeing her voice.

"Yes, we bumped into each other and got talking," Arthur replies, desperately hoping his voice sounds even.

"Oh lovely. You know, I was thinking of going to Moira's myself today; mind if I join you?"

"No, not at all," Merlin answers cheerfully, "the more the merrier."

"Excellent. Hey Gwen!" Morgana calls across to Gwen, who's arranging flowers at the church door. "Do you and Lance want to come to lunch with Arthur, Merlin and I in Moira's?"

"Ooo yeah okay," Gwen replies happily. "Is 2 o'clock okay?"

"Perfect, see you then!" Morgana thrills, and turns back to Arthur, who's scowling, and Merlin, who's bemused.

"Better hope the wind doesn't change," she says archly, grinning when Arthur scowls even more.

"Come on, we'd better get home," Arthur says. "I'll see you later Merlin."

"See you Arthur, see you Morgana," Merlin says, stepping back towards the church.

"Bye," Morgana calls.

She and Arthur start off for home, and no sooner are they out of the church grounds than Arthur grinds out, "So good of you to invite yourself along Morgana."

"Now now Arthur, you can't be keeping Merlin all to yourself," Morgana chides. "Besides, I can hardly think that you'd be very scintillating company."

"Well if I'm not very scintillating company then why does he want to meet up with me twice a week then eh?" Arthur bites out heatedly.

"He wants to what?" Morgana asks, expression incredulous.

Arthur flushes, curses his temper and Morgana, and then replies, "We're meeting up twice a week – one night to talk about religion and faith, and the second to hang out."

"Arthur… are you actually making friends with a religious person?"

"Shut up." Arthur scowls.

"Oh, my little brother's growing up!" Morgana squeals, giving him a hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Shut up," Arthur repeats, but this time he's smiling.

When they're back in the house and dressed in their normal clothes, Morgana gestures for him to follow, and leads him out the back to their old tree house. It's small and cramped, but it holds good memories, and it's perfect for private conversations.

"Remember when I told Uther that my night course changed from one to two nights a week?" She asks casually, once they're settled.

"Yes?"

"Well… I was lying. I'm doing something else on that second night."

"… What is it?"

"I-" Morgana stares down at her lap, then sighs, looks Arthur dead in the eye, and says, "I'm becoming a member of the Catholic Church."

"What, like Merlin?"

Arthur tries to imagine Morgana like that, and simply can't, it's too ridiculous.

"No no, like Gwen and Lance – I'm going to become a Catholic."

"Oh."

Arthur's silent for far too long, and Morgana begins to feel a curl of something horrid in her stomach, when he suddenly smiles and says, "If that's what you want, then I support you."

"Thank you," Morgana smiles brilliantly. "That means a lot to me."

"You can thank me by getting your hurl and going one on one with me so I can kick your ass."

"Bring it on."

"Where are you two going?" Uther asks, as they try to sneak out the door.

Arthur curses his father's amazing hearing, while Morgana answers smoothly, "We're going for lunch with Gwen and Lance."

"Oh," Uther says stiffly, his face hard.

Morgana had gushed about Gwen and Lance when she had first met them and Uther had been all in favour of her new friendships, but when she had mentioned their being religious, he had freaked, and had tried to ban her from seeing them. There had been many, many fights over them, and eventually, it had been silently agreed that there would be no more mention of Gwen and Lance.

"Why are you going with her Arthur?"

"Oh, um, Lance did the sports rehab course in UCG, I wanted to ask him about it," Arthur lies, keeping his face neutral.

Uther regards him keenly for a few moments, before nodding.

"Would you like us to bring you back anything?" Morgana asks gently.

"No thank you," Uther replies with a soft smile. "Enjoy yourselves."

"We will," Morgana smiles, and she and Arthur hurry off.

Lunch turns out to be a very pleasant affair; Gwen and Lance are lovely and funny and the kind of couple you want to hate but can't because they're just so damn nice and sweet. Yet again, Arthur finds himself pressed against Merlin, as they all squish around a corner table, and he loses himself a little in Merlin's laugh and his voice and animated expression as he tells stories from his time in the seminary – the time they switched the demonstration baby used for practising baptisms for one that cried every time it was picked up, going to mass in the middle of the night, and the time they observed a funeral of a man, who's loved ones dressed up as clowns. All too soon, they're done, and Arthur regretfully goes to pay and makes his way outside with the others.

"This was great fun," Lance says warmly, "I wouldn't be opposed to making this a weekly thing."

"Me neither," Morgana agrees, while Gwen smiles at Lance like he's suggested the way to bring about world peace.

"Great idea," Merlin says, while Arthur nods. "I look forward to it."

The five make their goodbye and part ways, and when they get home, Morgana wordlessly hands Uther a doughnut and a pack of cards, while Arthur goes to his room and stares at his CAO form, willing it to fill itself out.

"Father, if I was to ask you why bad things happen to good people, what would you say?" Merlin asks his mentor as he reads over Revelations.

"Merlin, are you having a crisis of faith?" Father Gaius asks, perturbed. "You've been asking me strange questions all day."

"No no, no crisis at all," Merlin hastily answers. "It's just… do you know Arthur Pendragon?"

"Not personally no, but his reputation precedes him. Why?"

"Well, he's started going to mass, and I bumped into him, and it turns out he's rather lacking in faith, due to… circumstances," Merlin explains. "So I've offered to talk to him about faith and religion, which he's happy about, so I'm trying to anticipate what questions he's going to ask."

Father Gaius' eyebrows are nearly in his hairline he's so astonished, and he coughs and says, "I see… Well my boy, I'm sure you already know the answers to these questions."

"Well, yes," Merlin confesses, "but I want to know what _you'd_ say."

Father Gaius smiles and replies, "I think it would be better if Arthur were to hear what _your_ opinion is, and not the opinion of an old priest. Now, shouldn't you be getting back to your work?"

"Oh, yes." Merlin nods, quickly putting his nose back in the book, making notes every now and then, while Father Gaius regards him with a fond, fatherly smile.

Arthur knocks on the door of the priest's house, and continues reading the Bible.

"Okay," he says as the door's opened, not bothering to look up from the book, "I haven't read the whole thing yet, but seriously, you believe all this? God created the Earth in six days? Adam and Eve populated the Earth and lived nearly a thousand years?"

"Ah, the sound of the uneducated," an old, amused voice says. "If I had known it would be this much fun, I'd have talked to you myself."

Arthur jumps, and looks up in shock at the face of the parish priest, who gazed back at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Good evening Arthur," he says in greeting.

"Good evening Father," Arthur mumbles, his face burning from blushing so much.

"Merlin's in the living room," Father Gaius tells him, stepping out the front door. "Please let him know I've gone to bingo."

The priest walks off, and Arthur takes a moment to allow his blush to fade away, before he enters the house. He closes the front door, and then makes his way into the sitting room, where he finds Merlin, engrossed in a bunch of hand-written notes. He coughs, and Merlin jumps, dropping the sheets of paper.

"Oh!" Merlin cries, looking around. "Sorry, I didn't know if it was you at the door, and Father Gaius was leaving as you knocked, and he said he'd get it."

"Yeah, he said to tell you he's gone to bingo," Arthur says wryly.

"Ah yes, the secret addiction of all priests."

"Are you sure you can stand the excitement of it?" Arthur asks dryly.

"We like to live dangerously," Merlin winks.

Arthur laughs and takes a seat beside him.

"Okay, so first of all, you're going to explain the start of this to me," Arthur says firmly, holding up the Bible, "because Genesis is hella-confusing."

Merlin grins and says wryly, "Let me guess, you think it's all a bunch of clap trap and nonsense, what with God creating the Earth in six days and Adam and Eve living hundreds of years."

Arthur goes slightly red and replies lowly, "Yes, well that's what's written in it."

Merlin laughs and replies, "Yes it is, but it's not meant to be taken literally. Most of the Old Testament is parables – they're stories used either to explain things or to teach a lesson. Genesis is simply an attempt to explain the creation of Earth and the beginning of humanity. A friend of mine from college believes it's all a scientific metaphor – 'Let there be light!' equals the Big Bang. It helps him bolster his faith."

"I don't understand why anyone would want to bolster their faith," Arthur snorts in slight contempt.

"A lot of people have faith in many different things – be it love, diligence, honesty, people, or God."

"Yes, but if you have too much faith in something, you become dependent on it, and you forget of all the bad things that can happen – such as when God lets bad things happen to good people."

"Ah yes, I thought you might mention that." Merlin grins fondly. "What you need to remember is that God is our Father. Now, what any parent wants to do is wrap their child in bubble wrap and never let a bad thing happen to them, but they know that their child will never learn or grow if they don't experience the world on their own, make mistakes or get hurt. So, they have to let them go off, and keep an eye on them, and try to comfort them as best they can when things go wrong."

Arthur thinks of Uther: how he's worked all his life to shield Arthur from the perils of faith, how he's failed miserably to notice when things are truly distressing him, but how he tends to him when he's sick or in trouble.

"Even when they fail us, we still have faith in our parents to be there for us, and have our best intentions at heart," Merlin says gently.

"You… you're right," Arthur replies, voice rough. "I'd never thought about it that way…"

"I know it's still hard for you, because of your mother, and how your father was afterwards, but God did not abandon you during that time. He was there in the people that visited you, in the people that took care of your mother, in the strength and courage you and your father had during that difficult time."

"Maybe," Arthur says with some difficulty, "but I still can't see how that justifies our blind faith in him at the time."

Merlin is silent for a moment, his expression troubled and pensive, as if he's trying to make a hard decision.

After a while, he says, "Arthur, you have little to no faith in God. What is he to you?"

Arthur shrugs and replies, "Nothing really."

"Right, so he's meaningless to you. Now think about faith in general – faith in people, in technology, in the government, in the future. Imagine what the world would be like if people had no faith, in anything."

"It would be… hopeless," Arthur replies after a moment's thought. "People would just give up."

"Yes. So can you see how important faith is?"

Arthur nods and Merlin continues. "For some people, their faith in God is the only thing that keeps their faith in everything else in life. Do you realise just how important faith in God can be?"

Arthur realises that it's true, while simultaneously realising that he himself has so very little faith or hope in anything, the same with his father. It creates a sickening feeling in his stomach, and a powerful yearning for something he can't truly understand.

Arthur and Merlin talk a while more about faith in the world, and Merlin finishes their session with a story:

A man has a dream in which he's walking down a beach with God beside him, both of them leaving footprints in the sand. These footprints stretch back behind them, representing the man's life. Looking back, the man is troubled to see that there are moments – moments of trouble in his life, when there is only a single set of footprints, so he turns to God and says, "Lord, why did you leave me when my life was difficult?" And God smiles and replies, "My child, I would not abandon you when you needed me most. Those are not times when you walked alone; those are the times I carried you."

Later that night, Arthur, while thinking about that story, feels a lump in the back of his throat, and realises, that for the first time since his mother died, he's close to tears.

Merlin and Arthur are playing a little one-on-one hurling on their Friday hanging out; Merlin's surprisingly good, very graceful with his footwork. During a water break, Merlin turns to him and says, "I was thinking about what you said, about it being difficult to justify faith after a horrible experience, and I have a story to tell you."

"Okay," Arthur says curiously, "shoot."

Merlin settles on the grass, and takes a gulp of water, before speaking.

"My mother is a Catholic, but my father was a Protestant. I know it means nothing now, but back when they were young, in Ireland, especially in Northern Ireland; it was insane to even think of Catholics and Protestants associating with each other. They fell in love regardless of this, keeping their relationship a secret, and decided to elope. They managed to steal away, and were married in a registry office, before my mother's brothers caught up with them. They dragged my father away and beat him to death, while my mother watched from a hidden corner. She luckily managed to escape to England, and hasn't spoken to her family since. Even though religion and hatred killed the man she loved, she still has an unbelievable faith in God, and thanks him every day that she and I are healthy and safe."

At this point, Merlin looks directly at Arthur and finishes with, "She told me all this when I was young, and was questioning God's love and power when bad things happen. It's always stuck with me when I think about how important faith is."

Arthur stares at him in shock, unable to believe just how close Merlin came to ending up like him. It twists Arthur's insides to think of a Merlin without faith or peacefulness or God, and he wonders if this is how Merlin feels about him.

"Merlin, I… that's really shit," he says, swallowing with difficulty. "I can't imagine how your mother made it through such an ordeal."

"Sometimes I can't either," Merlin replies sadly. "Just… keep that story in mind, eh?"

Arthur nods solemnly, and Merlin smiles in reply and then stands.

"Come on, let's get back to me beating you," he grins, holding a hand out. "I believe it's 2-6 to 1-7?"

"Oh believe me; this game will end with me as the winner." Arthur grins back.

Merlin laughs. Arthur takes his hand, and lets himself be helped up.

A few weeks later, Arthur and Morgana are walking back from mass, when Morgana turns to him and says happily, "You know, you're starting to look so much more relaxed and peaceful lately."

"Thanks, I feel that way too," Arthur replies in a pleased tone.

Mentally, Arthur thanks Merlin for his help through all this – their sessions are becoming more and more in depth, and they've become more personal too: Arthur told Merlin about his past and the way he treated religious people, and Merlin simply smiled and told him that as long as he was sorry, then all was forgiven. Arthur has started to accept God in his life, and it's having a very positive effect on him. He's also taken it upon himself to learn the prayers he needs for mass, and finds the message behind many of them comforting. He and Merlin have become very close, and while he still fancies the pants off Merlin, it's tempered by the sweet and wonderful friendship they have. Since starting to develop an interest in religion, Arthur's life had greatly improved. The only problem is, hiding it at home.

Morgana's no help with this – now that both of them are on the bandwagon, she wants to tell Uther everything, and try to bring him around to their way of thinking. Arthur is adamantly against this.

"No," he says firmly as Morgana brings it up yet again. "We're not telling him anything. And if you try to, I'll… I'll deny it all."

"No you won't," Morgana replies shrewdly.

Arthur sighs and replies miserably, "No… I won't. But _please_ Morgana, for the sake of peace, don't say anything."

Morgana sighs in frustration, but replies, "Fine… But only for you."

"Thank you," Arthur says gratefully.

Of course though, Morgana being Morgana, she can't fully drop anything, and Arthur grits his teeth when she says oh-so-casually at dinner that night, "So Uther, I heard there's a jazz and blues band playing in town next week."

"Really?" Uther asks interestedly. "Where?"

"In the Church," Morgana answers promptly.

Arthur flinches, and Uther stiffens, before he says darkly, "We're not going."

"Why not?" Morgana challenges.

"Because I will not set foot in that monstrosity of a place," Uther growls, glaring fiercely at Morgana, who glares frostily back.

"It's not a monstrosity of a place!" She cries angrily. "It's a place people go to be together and pray, you know, like the one you used to head?"

"Shut up!" Uther roars. "You will never mention that again!"

Morgana stares at him darkly, but remains silent.

Arthur raises his head slightly, thinking furiously of a subject of conversation to distract Uther with, when Morgana mutters, "Gwen and Lance go to church, and they're perfectly lovely people."

Arthur groans and lowers his head, and Uther snaps, "We agreed not to speak of them again!"

"They're my friends; I'll speak about them if I want! You're maniacal! Your hatred of religion is suffocating and completely unreasonable!"

"I'm only trying to protect you!" Uther says defensively.

"No, you're forcing your views on me, raping my brain with your horrid, horrid thoughts!"

Uther stares at her in outrage, then grits his teeth and says dangerously, "Get out of my sight: you disgust me."

Morgana stares at him, until her lower lip starts wobbling, at which stage she storms off. Arthur escapes the table as quickly as he can, and goes to her room, where he finds his adopted sister curled up on her bed sniffling, while angry rock music blasts from her stereo.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" He sighs as he sits beside her and wraps an arm around her shoulder.

"I don't know, he just… he just makes me so angry! He's ignorant, and close-minded, and, and…"

"And you were the same at one stage in your life," Arthur says gently.

Morgana stills, hiccups, then nods and replies, "Yes, but I got over it! And I know he can too if he'd just let himself."

"Maybe he will, but it will be in his own time. You can't keep pushing him into it."

Morgana giggles and says, "Since when did you get so wise?"

"Since Merlin."

"You still like him?"

"Course I do, he's my friend."

"Not that way. Do you fancy him?"

"…Yeah…"

"Oh Arthur…"

"Oh nothing," Arthur scoffs, and then adds wryly, "And by the way, did you have to talk about the brain raping again?"

"I knew it would get a reaction," Morgana laughs, then sobs into Arthur's shoulder.

"Morgana?" There's a knock at her door, and Uther appears, his face twisted in apology.

Morgana stands up, arms outstretched, and Uther comes to her. Arthur leaves them as they embrace, ignoring the strange curl of his stomach at the sight, in favour of being happy that their fight didn't last too long this time.

Okie dokie arti-chokie! There are three more chapters to go after this one, so hopefully you still want to continue reading. Please let me know what you think, reviews are love after all! Or if you want to complain, feel free! Back again this time next week!

Sláinte!


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **Dóchas

**Author:** phys_nut

**Beta:** dwarfandelf

**Summary:** [this chapter] Arthur comes out to Merlin, and Christmas shenanigans are had.

**Word Count: **2,872

**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin, Uther/Morgana

**Warnings:** religious themes, but nothing preachy or anything like that. Age differences (Arthur/Merlin – 18/24, Uther/Morgana – 39/26)

**Disclaimer: **none of this is mine, it all belongs to the BBC and Arthurian Legend.

**A/N: **howayis! Here's the next chapter. Please read and enjoy! :D

"Arthur, what's wrong?" Merlin asks worriedly, as he takes a seat beside him, their hands brushing.

Arthur inwardly flinches and tries not to lean into the dark-haired man. Merlin had suggested swimming for their Friday activity, as Gaius had given him the morning off, and Arthur had been all for it, looking forward to the exercise. Instead though, he had ended up unable to concentrate, and took to sulking in the sauna, until Merlin had come to find him.

"Things are kind of tense at home," he explains. "Morgana keeps trying to talk to Uther about religion, he's having none of it, and they keep screaming at one another."

"Oh. Does Uther know that you're siding with Morgana?"

"No no, I'm just tired of being in the middle of the two of them. Uther would _never _think I was into religion at all," Arthur snorts, "not only because I never talk about it, but also because-" He stops short, not believing what he was about to give away.

"Because what?" Merlin asks curiously.

"Because…" This is not the time to be telling Merlin this, when they're practically naked and alone, all hot and sweaty, but Arthur can't keep it from him anymore, so he closes his eyes and plunges bravely onwards. "Because I'm gay."

Merlin is silent, and Arthur opens his eyes to see him frowning down at his hands. Arthur feels far too terrified to say any more, and simply sits there: waiting for Merlin to speak.

"So, I guess when I said that tomboy was your type, it was just the boy part that was really true eh?" Merlin eventually jokes weakly.

Arthur breathes a sigh of relief, and chuckles slightly hysterically.

"Yes that it is."

Merlin laughs and then asks in a serious and slightly hurt tone, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Oh, well, you're religious and training to be a priest, and I thought that if you knew, you might, you know, hate me," Arthur replies in a small voice.

"Oh Arthur, I could never hate you," Merlin smiles gently, "and besides, all God and Jesus want is for us to be good to each other, and love one another. God will always love you."

"But it says in Leviticus that it's an abomination to be gay."

"It also says it's an abomination to eat shellfish, and grow different crops beside one another. They are a bunch of out-dated laws that don't apply to modern day society. When you get on to the New Testament, you'll find that those sorts of things aren't mentioned."

"But…isn't the church against homosexuality?"

"The older members of the church are, yes," Merlin answers carefully, "but I believe that if we are to keep up interest in church and mass among people today, we will have to throw off old, discriminating attitudes. And it's happening – there are gay churches, gay priests, gay marriage. As long as there's love in the world, God's happy."

Arthur smiles, feeling uplifted. "Good to know."

He's silent then, his mind at war. He knows he shouldn't ask; even if Merlin is, there would be no point because he's training to be a bloody priest, but Arthur has to know, can't help but torture himself, and so his mouth opens and –

"So, are you, um…?"

"Oh! Um, I guess, asexual is the word?" Merlin tries to explain. "I've never fancied anyone."

"What, really?" Arthur asks, shocked. "No one? Ever?"

"Nope."

"You've never even noticed if someone's attractive?"

"I've only ever been devoted to God."

"But, but… surely there's someone!" Arthur splutters.

"No, there's no one." Merlin frowns. "Why is this so important to you?"

"Because! It's a little strange – Everyone should have at least one person they fancy!"

"Well I don't."

"Not even a lit-"

"Christ Arthur, I already told you I don't fancy anyone, would you just drop it?" Merlin yells.

Arthur stares at Merlin, unable to believe that the usually good-tempered man had just gotten so angry with him. Merlin's eyes widen, and then his face drops into his hands as he mutters, "Great, Father Gaius is going to have such fun at confession."

The two men leave the sauna very soon after that. Their conversation is stilted and awkward, and remains so for the next few days, until Merlin impulsively hugs Arthur and whispers, "Sorry."

Arthur grabs the opportunity and hugs him tightly back.

"I'm sorry too," he whispers, trying not to nose his way along Merlin's jaw line.

Things get much better after that, and soon they're as close as they ever were. Both of them make sure though, never to mention liking someone again.

"Father, what do you think about all the rules in Leviticus?" Merlin asks timidly during one of his lesson.

"Claptrap and hogwash," is Father Gaius' prompt response. "They are something ignorant people use to spread hatred, while failing to recognize or acknowledge any of the other non-sensical rules."

"Oh, so you don't have a problem with homosexuality?"

"My boy, I can hardly believe that a kind and loving God who would give up his only son for us, would be so petty as to deny people love simply because of the gender they love. My views aren't very popular, and few priests agree with them, but I stick by them."

Merlin smiles brightly and says, "I'm very glad to hear that, and please know that I agree with you."

"I'm glad to hear that," Father Gaius smiles back.

"Gwen, do you think it's strange that I've never fancied anyone?" Merlin asks at his and Gwen's next session.

"Oh, um, well, I mean, I guess everyone's got someone that they find attractive, so maybe… but there's no point for you – not that you're not a great catch, just that you're going to be a priest so it's a good thing! Um… look, do _you_ think it's strange?"

"Not really," Merlin replies, and then adds sourly, "Everyone else seems to think it is though."

"Well… look there's no such thing as normal," Gwen tells him. "All that matters if how you feel, and as long as you're content in yourself, then you're all good."

"Thanks Gwen," Merlin grins.

She may babble quite a lot, but when push comes to shove, Merlin finds that she knows exactly what to say.

"Hello Father," Arthur grins cheekily as Father Gaius opens the door, "can Merlin come out to play?"

Father Gaius arches an eyebrow, gives him a look, and then replies, "I highly doubt 'playing' is the right term for what you plan to drag my student out to do."

"All part of the festive fun."

Father Gaius gives a wry grin and says, "Indeed."

He steps back into the hallway, gesturing for Arthur to follow, and as Arthur walks in the door, Merlin comes barrelling down the stairs. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes sparkling, his grin lights up the room, and Arthur's stomach bottoms out at how gorgeous he looks in his dark cord trousers and blue woollen jumper.

"Ready to go?" He asks, pleased at how steady his voice is.

"Yup," Merlin nods excitedly, grabbing his coat and scarf and pulling them on.

"Be careful Merlin," Father Gaius warns, "I've been warned about you: one whiff of a barmaid's apron and you're dancing on the tables."

Merlin blushes and nods obediently, then shoves Arthur out the door while calling hasty goodbyes.

Arthur manages to walk three steps before he smirks and says, "Better keep you away from those pesky barmaids and their aprons, lord knows what you'll get up to."

Merlin scowls and half-heartedly shoves Arthur.

"I should start bringing you to confession the amount of times you've taken the Lord's name in vain."

"Can't do, I'm not a Catholic."

"You're not a Catholic YET."

"Promises promises," Arthur singsongs.

He's giddy with joy and excitement for the night to come – Morgana's stories of her wild pub crawls still echoes in his memory, and he's looking forward to his very first one. He and Merlin banter as they walk down the road, until they reach their first destination, The Laughing Ass, where Morgana, Gwen and Lance are waiting.

"Happy Christmas!" Gwen cheers as they walk up to the table.

Everyone hugs and exchanges seasonal greeting, and then settles down around the table as Morgana lays down the rules.

"Okay, the theme of this pub crawl is The 12 Days of Christmas," she tells them with a wicked smile. "I've made a list of all the drinks and the day they are associated with."

With that, she puts the list down on the table:

A Partridge in a Pear Tree: Pear Cider

2 Turtle Doves: Grouse Whiskey Shot

3 French hens: French Flag Shot

4 Calling Birds: Aftershock Shot

5 Gold Rings: Goldschlager Shot

6 Geese-a-Laying: Jager Bomb

7 Swans-a-Swimming: Silver Bullet Shot

8 Maids-a-Milking: Mudslide Cocktail

9 Drummers Drumming: Mohito

10 Pipers Piping: Jazz Vodka

11 Ladies Dancing: Fat Frog

12 Lords-a-Leaping: Vodka and Redbull

"And afterwards, we're going to Viper for karaoke and dancing," Morgana finishes.

Merlin makes a faint choking noise and says, "Um, Morgana, I'm not too sure if I'll be able to handle all this…"

"I'm not even sure a horse could handle all this," Arthur adds dubiously.

"Nonsense, it's easily done," Morgana scoffs. "Right Gwen?"

Gwen eyes the list thoughtfully, and then declares, "Seems reasonable."

And that's that. There's no way Arthur's backing down from a challenge against girls, especially Morgana, so he sets his jaw and nods.

"Fine, let's do it," he says defiantly.

Merlin makes another choking noise, while Lance eyes him as though he's a brave king leading his men into battle.

"Let the games begin," Morgana announces.

As it turns out, Father Gaius is right; by the time they hit the fourth pub, Merlin's swaying slightly as he walks, his speech has sped up, and his English accent is becoming thicker. By the eighth pub, the accent has become near incomprehensible, and by the time they make it to Viper, Merlin's leaning heavily on Arthur, slurring words into his ear.

"Thur's s'mthin 'bout you Arfur. 'S like… 's like it's my DESTINY or summat to help you. Also… you're like… MY BEST FRIEND, only don' tell Will, he'll cry, cry like a babay."

Arthur's not much better off than Merlin at this point, and he leans against Merlin in wonton delight.

Turning his face against Merlin's neck, he slurs in his ear, "'S cool Merlin, you're my best friend too. I love you, ya know that?"

Arthur and Merlin exchange a manly hug, nearly falling off their bar stools, while Lance, who's nearly as bad, slumps beside them, sipping on a pint of water. What's truly terrifying is that Morgana and Gwen are totally fine – they're at the bar downing shots of tequila like they're water. Once they're done, they run off to the stage to belt out, "Ain't no Mountain High Enough," in true diva style.

As the night progresses, Arthur and Merlin sober up enough for the girls to drag them off dancing, and if Arthur happens to brush against Merlin every now and then, he tells himself it's nothing, in spite of the goofy grin Merlin sends him every time he does. When the club is closed, the group stumbles down to Supermacs for much needed refuelling, before piling into a taxi and heading for home.

Arthur wakes up early in the morning, still fully clothed, on top of his bed, his mouth dry and head stuffy. As he pulls his clothes off, hazy memories filter back into his mind. As he remembers telling Merlin he loves him, Arthur groans and falls back into bed. He pulls the duvet over his head and vows never to drink again.

"So, how long are you gone for?" Arthur asks, as he and Merlin share their last lunch of the year.

"Till a bit after New Years," Merlin replies.

"Cool, uh, tell your mam I said hi."

"Will do. Do you think you'll be able to make it to Christmas mass?"

"Hopefully, there's supposed to be a big choir and re-enactment and everything," Arthur tells him with an excited smile.

"Sounds like fun," Merlin grins. "Mass at home is quiet, very solemn."

"That's not really full of Christmas cheer," Arthur says, nose wrinkling.

"No, but afterwards mam and I go home, make some mulled wine, put on the Christmas classics record and dance around the sitting room."

Arthur smiles at the image he has in his head of this – it's wonderful and homey and so very different to Christmases at home, especially when Morgana harps on about Jesus. Which she definitely will do this year.

The two friends linger over finishing their lunches, but eventually they have to move. As they turn to say goodbye, Arthur pulls a package out of his pocket and thrusts it into Merlin's hands.

"Happy Christmas," he says nonchalantly.

"Thanks Arthur," Merlin smiles.

He opens the package and laughs when he sees his present – a clock, with only two settings: 'praying time' and 'party time'. He then reaches into his bag and pulls out a present for Arthur. Arthur opens it and his face softens when he sees the framed poster of the story of the Footprints in the Sand.

"Thank you," he says appreciatively. "It's… I love it."

"Good," Merlin smiles, and then grabs Arthur in a fierce hug. "I'll see you in two weeks."

"See you, happy Christmas," Arthur replies, hugging him back.

They part and wave each other off, and if Arthur ends up sulking in his room for the next few days, well, he isn't admitting that to anyone.

A few days later, Arthur receives a letter from Merlin, telling him about his journey home (sheep blocked the train line, and an old man started Irish dancing for everyone's amusement), seeing his mam and Will again (Will literally clung to him for an hour) and putting up the Christmas decorations. Excited, Arthur wrote back, telling him about Gwen and Lance getting engaged, Uther and Morgana still arguing, and getting tinsel in his eye from trying to decorate the tree himself. Merlin and Arthur continue to exchange letters throughout the holiday, and for Arthur, they are a sweet respite from the tension at home. Morgana has decided to take it upon herself to remind Uther of the true meaning of Christmas, from bringing a manger into the house, to playing CDs of religious carols, to putting up pictures of the Holy Family. Uther viciously tears down and burns every single thing, and he and Morgana scream at each other for hours. Arthur is immensely glad when Pell and the guys come home, and he spends his days hanging with them, playing video games, having a few beers, listening to their college stories. The look of shock on their faces when he tells them he's attending mass is hilarious, and naturally he endures a few days of good-natured slagging in return. He ends up going to Christmas Eve mass with them, sits in the back row and prays while laughing silently at their jokes and antics. He goes home that night feeling cheerful and certain that he has the greatest friends ever.

Christmas Day is sombre at best: a stony silence sits between Morgan and Uther, who refuse to even look at each other. Arthur spends most of the day outside with his hurl and sliotar, moving mostly just to keep warm, and in the evening, he jumps at his phone when it rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Arthur?"

"Merlin?"

"Yeah, hey, happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas to you too. How's your day going?"

"Great, Will came over and we spent most of the day playing Marvel vs. DC."

"Oh cool, I love that game."

"Yeah, it's great. So… how's things at home?"

"Not the best," Arthur sighs. "Morgana put a crib up in her room a few days ago; Uther took it outside and burned it so she slapped him. They had a huge fight and haven't spoken since."

"Oh Arthur, that's not fair on you at all."

"It's not so bad, my friends came back from college so I've been able to escape with them when needs be.

"Good. Look, I was wondering, would you like to come up to mine for New Years? We're having a huge party. Ask Morgana, Gwen and Lance too."

"Yeah, that sounds brilliant! I'll ask them asap."

"Great, let me know and I'll give you details on how to get here."

"Will do, talk to you later."

"Bye."

Arthur hangs up and heads into Morgana's room, where he finds said woman arranging another crib on her desk, a butcher knife beside it.

"Um, Morgana, what's up with the knife?"

"If Uther tries to touch this one, I'll stab him," she informs him calmly, her eyes focused on her task.

"You know, you're only – ugh, I am _not_ getting involved. Merlin just rang; he wants to know if we'd like to go to his for New Years."

"Oh! Okay," Morgana smiles for the first time in days.

"Great, can you ask Gwen and Lance?"

"Sure thing."

Right-oh! Only two more chapters to go! I'd really appreciate it if you fine people took the time to leave me a little review and let me know if you're enjoying this or not, it really means the world to me!

Sláinte!


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